


How Not to Recruit Teammates

by LadyHikariofDarkness



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Corruption, M/M, Mentions of Josh Jepson, Multi, Other Youtubers, PreAH Michael, Pure Souls, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spider Demon God, mentions of Meg, mentions of Ray - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:53:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHikariofDarkness/pseuds/LadyHikariofDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has inherent corruptness in it in the form of the deity, Arachnos. Someone fully awakened the being and everything is going to hell. People who are immune to being corrupted are disappearing left and right. Michael is one of those people, cornered in an alley and branded for sacrifice, he has to survive being killed for the deity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings Suck, You're Always Alone

The world was a strange one, it definitely was. No one knew how the sacrificing started or how everything had gone to shit since. Everyone lived life normally, nothing had been going on, the most worrisome thing to people was finding their soulmates. Everyone wanted and was drawn to them, the group of people who each held a section of their soul mark. They usually came in circles with a symbol in the middle cut up by how many you had and each colored to match their personality upon eye contact. You could have two or three soulmates on average, one uncommon but not unheard of, more than the average being more likely, but as you get into the higher numbers the chance dipped drastically.

But this isn't what caused the problem, a higher being known as the Arachnos is. Arachnos is a deity whose sole purpose is to control the evil in the world, to keep it regulated and controlled properly. It isn't meant to be disturbed, getting its ability through the negative or corrupt actions of man naturally. This is mainly due to it’s power being a two way street. While its regulating us and our corrupt urges, those same urges keep it sated and prevents it from causing its power to directly corrupt people into actively sacrificing for it. As such, only people immune to its corruption are able to even learn that it actually exists, lest some gets the bright idea and offers sacrifice.

What should've been all the time is that people who are pure are picked and trained as agents who keep the secret under wraps and out of public eye. Despite what you think, ‘pure’ just means they are exempt from the Arachnos’ power, they aren't ‘goody two shoes, wouldn't hurt a fly people’. They can be assholes or criminals or all around unpleasant.

A man by the name of Grayson Blight found out about the deity. He wasn't a pure, he was normal with two lovely soulmates and a job as a teacher for a small middle school. He didn't have a record, but was to inquisitive for his own good, having heard about the deity from students and his pure male soulmate. Neither party knew he'd want to see, he himself didn't know he was capable of the requirements to awaken the spider being. It spiraled downhill quickly, people disappearing without a trace, pures and normals alike. Grayson himself had gone insane and reclusive, muttering about ‘the corrupted’, ‘Arachnos’, and ‘spiders’.

This brings us to the people corrupted. Once afflicted with Arachnos’ power, some disappeared, others were drawn to pures like moths, catching and branding them with a sigil of Arachnos, causing many of those pures to disappear a week later, give or take. One such was Michael Jones, who despite being pure, was as far from what'd you expect out of one, being a redheaded, profanity spewing, abrasive New Jerseyan who worked as an electrician who spent his free time screaming at his TV playing video games.

Michael was walking down to his apartment after work, his car broken down a day before forcing him to do so. He heard the news about all the pures being targeted and kept a wariness about him around the crowd of people, pushing them out of the way to get home and not worry about it anymore. He shoved through some people ignoring the swearing he received as he took an alley to save time and get out of the streets faster. He swore as he felt an iron grip pull him back by the hoodie he was wearing as he felt the pressure radiating off of his assailant.

_Who are you?_

“What do you want, asshole?” He asked, angry and silently hoping it was one of the people he shoved out on the streets as he was unable to turn around, “I've got more important things to do than be stopped by your stupid ass.”

He was tugged flush against the person, most likely a man, his arms pulled back and bound by thick rope. He heard the person chuckling quietly as he struggled to pull himself out of the tight hold unsuccessfully.

_Should've taken the streets idiot, not some shifty alley. Should've taken that offer for a ride. Stupid stupid stu-_

“What a beautiful, white aura you have about you, pure one. How I long to burn and darken it black for the deity’s sacrifice.” The man spoke, his voice low, “Or maybe I could keep you for a while. I do prefer the ones with a temper to them, they always keep going and believing just to save face.”

Michael shivered involuntarily, his hands clenched in fists as he growled at the man, “Fuck off, you asshole.”

_Don't get scared Michael. You're the angry guy, not some spineless wimp._

“The fear in your body doesn't escape me, pure one, you know what my kindred have been doing to yours and you hate how it makes you feel scared. It feels like you lost your pride, doesn't it?” The man replied smoothly, “Maybe I'll brand you here, mark you as the slave to the corrupt and let you save whatever pride you have left after getting caught off guard like this.”

_What the actual fuck? Branding? Is this guy for real?_

“I'm not scared of you, you cocky prick.” Michael countered with a glare at his peripheral, trying to calm his racing pulse and not give his attacker the pleasure.

He could hear the frown in the next response he got, “Okay, I'll make sure to let you feel every bit of pain you could've prevented from the brand. Don't even try to act scared now, you missed your chance.”

Michael growled a little, but kept quiet and observant to the others movements, waiting for any opening for escape and found one in the man loosening his grip on his arms. He tugged his bound arms out and dashed for the street and, hopefully, the crowd of people to keep the psycho at bay. Michael’s vision tunneled as he dashed to the street and and just a few feet from the end of the alley, he felt an agonizing burn start on the back of his right shoulder. Swearing, he caught the laughter bouncing from the alley as adrenaline kept him upright. He must of been worse off than he thought because when he reach a corner and rested against the brick of a building, multiple people came up and asked if he needed help. He shook them off and declined, but worried about it more and more as he finally reached his apartment. He dashed to his bathroom and looked at his back through the mirror.

“What the hell is this?” Michael gaped at the mark that had literally burnt a hole in his skin, the flesh irritated and red.

He wasn't an expert on how branding worked, but generally you didn't get them without the actual fucking brand. He hadn't been touched by any metal and even if he'd been glanced by some it wouldn't **burn a damn hole in his back**. The actual wound had subsided to a painful throb, bearable, but definitely could be better. Michael frowned when he saw his shirt melded with the burnt edges and knew he needed to put on a new one.

After about five attempts at getting his shirt off (mostly consisting of him trying to force down the pained yells at moving his arm up past his chin and unsuccessfully getting his shirt even remotely free.) he decided to fuck it and cut his shirt off. The prick in the alley already burned a hole through it and ruined it, so why the hell not. He grabbed the scissors from his bedroom, proceeding to cut vertically down his shirt. He spared a glance at his blank soul mark, on the front, coincidently opposite from that stupid brand he got. He frowned and stopped to think about it.

_Five soulmates may have just lost their other link. Every pure disappears after those encounters, no exceptions._

That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and prevent though.

A couple minutes or so later Michael had a new shirt on and pulled on his shoes to walk to the nearest hospital to get checked out and hopefully not have anything to worry about. It wasn't far from his apartment, but he was still wary, avoiding alleys and checking behind himself constantly. Fortunately, the walk was fairly uneventful and Michael found himself in the waiting room waiting for a check up on the mark on his back. He tapped his foot, trying to distract himself as he grew concerned about it, the only thing his pride would let him show.

_Don't think about the damn brand asshole. It's nothing and something you shouldn't be concerned about._

“Mr. Jones?”

He looked up and saw a nurse standing in the doorway to the hospital rooms. He waved slightly with his good arm to the woman.

“Follow me please.” The nurse nodded to him and strolled out of the waiting area.

Michael stood up and hastily tried to follow the lady. She hadn't gone far and now they silently walked through the halls to the room he'd get a check up in. He pressed his lips together as he tried to predict how this would go down. He knew that most people had seen the news on the pure attacks, but how many went to a hospital?

_That's a dumb question. If anyone had the same pain of getting marked down, they were stupid not to get it checked out._

Even he knew where the line was between just trying to wait out the healing and going to get it checked up on.

Michael was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even acknowledge the nurse had stopped, jumping when a hand pulled on his arm. He glanced at the nurse, a thin blonde, who gave him an impatient look.

“The doctor will see you shortly, Mr. Jones.” Her voice was clipped and thin, betraying how much she was annoyed by him ignoring her.

Michael nodded, stepping inside the white-walled room, taking one of the chairs by the door. Everything felt so stuffy and isolated in the room, annoying Michael to no end.

_Can't they at least pick a different color? White’s boring as hell._

He blankly took in the room, not really looking so much as moving his eyes around. He saw nothing that stuck out as something unfamiliar, having had shots and broken bones before. Hospitals just felt weird to him in general. He didn't get much more time to contemplate as a tall woman stepped in the room and sat in the doctor's chair.

“Hello Mr. Jones- May I call you Michael?- I'm Dr. Gainer.” She was calm, but not completely clinical.

“That's fine. You gonna give me a check up?”

“Yes. What did you need this check up for?” The doctor asked, leaning forward slightly on her chair.

“I got attacked in an alley and a mark? Brand? I dunno, was burned in my skin. Wish I knew how because nothing any close to metal was involved.” He pinched his lips with an annoyed look at the wall to his right.

“Does it look like a spider surrounded by a circle?” She asked, the specific design caused Michael to raise an eyebrow at her.

He was curious now, “Didn't know what it looked like at the time, but yeah. It looks like one. Have you seen others with this before?”

“This isn't good.” She said, more to herself, a look of worry on her face, “Michael, did the person in the alley know you were a pure without you even knowing them?”

“Yeah, said something about my aura, so?”

Why so specific? How much does she know? This is freaky.

“Michael, have you watched the news lately? Maybe last week or so?” She asked seriously, her body tense.

“About the pure attacks, right? I'm guessing you know more about it than just that?”

“Yes. Michael, you were targeted by a person corrupted by a dark entity. That brand is basically a forced invitation into, what I guess to be, that entity's world. One of many ‘chosen’ for sacrifice. I was assigned by the government to try and prevent this from happening. Tell me, have you ever heard of something called Arachnos?” Her eyes met his, hard.

“Maybe. I think it was in a story that I had when I was, I dunno, five. Giant spider? Trying to make everything evil? Pures are immune, I think?” He answered, cautious and confused.

_Seriously, what the hell is going on!_

She got up to lean in the counter to his left, “It's not just a story, it's a real entity regulating the corruptness of our world. Do you remember the man on the news who went insane a few months back?” He went to answer, but she barreled on, “He awoke Arachnos. Found out about it and intentionally sacrificed for it. You don't do that, Michael, you can never intentionally sacrifice to the entity. A thin balance is regulated by both us people and it, unconsciously. Crimes and such, all that, is partially influenced by Arachnos, but also sedated it, keeps it from completely corrupting the planet. Us pures aren't affected, but it wouldn't matter, it craves for us, the ones not affected by it’s power and commands those under it to bring us to sacrifice. That's what those attacks were for. That sacrifice woke something that never should've awakened, a being that fully corrupts and controls people into sacrificing for it, keeping it awake, letting it hurt. I hope to god that none of your soulmates are corruptible. One of mine is and it's hard. Almost anyone you meet could be under influence.”

“I wouldn't know.” Michael replied, seeing the doctor jump in surprise, “Never met a single one yet.”

“I understand, I didn't meet mine until a few years ago. One works in the government as a pure, the other used to be a teacher, both male.” She had a wry smile, “I'm hoping you'll never see how quickly someone close to you can fall.”

“What's a complete soul mark look like?” He changed the topic, wanting to get off of it.

It was funny how comfortable this was, how open Dr. Gainer was in contrast to the blank white room. She didn't seem to care that she should probably be professional, he was her patient. She felt more like a friend than a doctor. He saw her smile fondly and lift her shirt up a little, revealing her lavender soul mark to the left of her navel. It was divided in two vertically, forming a halo and wings surrounded by a circle.

“It wasn't always like this. The sections match what color represents the person. I was stuck for awhile with half a mark colored crimson. When you meet your last partner, the mark fills in the other color and then turns into the color that represents the group as a whole.” She explained, soft and clearly remembering her past with her soulmates, before turning to him, “Can you show me yours, Michael?”

This was getting too comfortable, but Michael didn't really care all too much either. It was nice to just talk with someone like this once and awhile. He's done it before, recently, but only over Skype which didn't do justice to in person. He took his shirt off and saw the doctor laugh.

“You didn't need to take off your shirt.” She grinned, trying not to laugh too much.

“Maybe, but why I'm here is on my back so I kinda needed to.” He replied.

She frowned a bit and straightened up, “Right. We’ll get to that in a second. I just want to talk to you a bit more. So you have five soulmates? That's impressive. You ever think about who they could be?”

“Everyone does. I mean my parents were only each other's soulmates, so they were curious and so was my other family who had two or three each.” Michael answered back, “We should probably get back to the check up though.”

Dr. Gainer nodded, “Go up on the bed and lay on your stomach.”

He obliged, hissing at the cold of the sanitary paper. He didn't even realize how much touching it would hurt until a stab of pain coursed through his right shoulder. He swore under his breath and tightened his left hand in a fist. The pain subsided when the doctor stopped doing, well, whatever the hell she did.

“What did you do lady!” He demanded tightly, breathing slightly irregular.

“I barely touched you at all, I brushed my finger on the brand and that's it.” She answered, unamused, probably from being called lady, “You'll need a few days for it to heal and for me to find a way to erase it. You'll have to stay at the hos-”

“I don't have the money for that. Besides, can't you call me in to check on me when you need to?” He interrupted, knowing he couldn't stay in the walls of white.

“The government funds this, so it costs nothing. And no, it's better to have you here in case you disappear before we figure it out. It can help to prevent other people from falling to the same fate.” She countered, serious and uncaring of how Michael tried to excuse himself, “This can help the world at large.”

He crossed his arms, a look that was definitely not a pout crossing his face as well, “Fine. I get it. The world can be saved. I'll stay.”

“Thank you, Michael.” She breathed, relieved and happy.

_This better be worth it. I swear to fucking god if it isn't…_

Michael regretted his choice. He hated the fuck out of hospitals so why did he think it would be any different if the circumstances were.

_At least I'm not stuck in a fucking white room again._

The room was basically his. It wasn't white, but a boring gray wasn't too much of an upgrade. He was allowed to grab some clothes from his apartment, Dr. Gainer at least allowing him that much. He may have grabbed his 3DS and phone as well, but he didn't really care what'd the staff say to him at this point. He was determined to make this room not feel like a holding cell, rules be damned.

Michael was currently on his bed, playing Pokémon Y and generally ignoring his surrounding. He had stayed three days here, adjusted and hesitantly accepting his stay here. Check ups came in the morning and at night, with a scan of his body on the first day. Nothing really happened, his mark stopped hurting, but refused to close and heal. No one was really sure what would happen to him and when. He sure wasn't ready for the tug on his mind pulling him into a dark unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! It's out! (And editing the chapter because I neglected stuff deleted this note, so rewrite!) 
> 
> So, anyway, this is amazing to write because I don't need reference anything. Michael's the POV and he's not in AH (yet), so no let's play references! However, expect some when the crew arrives on the scene. And expect it to fly over Michael's head. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	2. Forced into Dealing With Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is left in the woods after his mark knocked him out. He meets some unfamiliar faces when he arrives.

He woke up to dirt and grass. Michael scrambled up, looking around in panic. It was dark, like a perpetual night kind of dark. He squinted, everything blurry and unfocused until his hand brushed metal.

_Of course it's blurry. I'm not wearing my glasses._

He grabbed them, shoving the frames on his face and quickly felt dread creep into him. He was in a forest, the light dimmed, but with his vision restored was lighter than before. Don't get the wrong idea, it was still fucking dark, just easier to separate actual lack of light in contrast to just a tree or rock or whatever was in the damn forest.

“Feels like I'm playing Slender or some shit like that. Collect those papers or whatever.” Michael muttered to the stagnant air, “I swear to god if I see anything enormously larger than me, I'm running.”

He heaved himself up, a wave of dizziness briefly passing through him from the movement. He shook it off and started to head into the treeline, feeling decidedly disturbed by the silence in wherever the hell he was, no white noise of bugs and leaves rustling, dead silence. Michael wasn't scared, no, he really wasn't. You didn't see him jump from cracking a stick under his foot, nope, definitely not.

_Why am even bothering to tell myself this. I'm alone anyway! No reason to act tough. This is fucking creepy and it’s getting to me._

Michael berated himself on his jumpiness. He couldn't really help it, everything seemed like the perfect set up for a horror movie or video game, good for a psychotic killer, not so much for a guy like himself. It was almost funny to him how drawn he was when he saw light bouncing off the trees I the distance, he really needed to get a grip. In the end, his curiosity won out and he found himself jogging in the direction the light came from.

He stared down at the campfire in confusion. Michael had no word for how random this was. It was _just_ a campfire, weirdly enough, with no humans or tents near it or anywhere in sight. He sighed heavily, sitting on a log close to it, trying to think of how he got here.

_I know it was probably that stupid brand that guy gave me in the alley. That's a given at least, but what else happened? I went to a hospital and suddenly I was here? Dammit, what the hell happened in that hospital! Did the mark do something? I don't feel it anymore, is it even there still?_

He pulled open the shirt a bit to peek over his shoulder. The mark was still there, angry red lines and all, but they weren't the thick lines of the brand he got. They were thin as string, the irritation making them look bigger. He really wished something would happen or someone would find him. All he had was the quiet crackling of the fire to distract him and it wasn't doing its job nearly good enough.

It was surprising when another person showed up. They stumbled towards the fire with a panicked look, startling Michael.

“What the shit! You scared the hell out of me!” Michael yelled at the person, a tall guy with dirty blonde hair.

“Are you real? Am I dreaming?” The guy whispered in confusion, a small frown on his face.

“I wish.” Michael scoffed, “It feels pretty damn real for a dream.”

“I guess that makes sense. Do you know where we are?”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Do I look like some GPS to ‘guide you to your destination’?”

“Jeez dude, chill. You're the first person I've met here, just thought I would ask.” He held his hands up in front of him.

“Same, but you don't see me asking.” Michael replied shortly, “ If I knew, I'd be long gone, but I don't, so I'm stuck here in the middle of a goddamn forest.”

This shut the guy up for a bit, letting Michael calm down. The blond sat down in his silence next to Michael, looking around the area quickly before staring not the fire.  
  
“By the way, my name's Tyler. What's yours?” Tyler asked suddenly, “Wait! Let me guess it!”

“You have, like, a one in a million chance of guessing it.” Michael supplied bluntly, “There are tons of names that you probably don't even know.”

“Is. It. Lefaunda!” Tyler yelled, “ Wait, wait, wait. No, you don't look like you could pull that off.”

“I can pull off anything. I would be the best damn Lefaunda you ever saw!” Michael yelled at Tyler, “You don't know what I am! I could be a fucking ballerina or some shit and you wouldn't know!”

“Okay! Okay! So angry!” Tyler giggled, “You remind me of my soulmate. That would totes be what he'd say.”

“Totes? What are you? A teenage girl?” Michael questioned, unamused.

“I wish! That'd be fun!” Tyler exuberantly replied, “So what's your name? For real.”

“Michael.” Came the short answer.

They made idle chatter as they sat around the fire. Michael learned through it how annoying and dumb Tyler could be. It was to a decidedly hilariously high level, he determined.

_This guy. How does his soulmate **deal** with him?_

Tyler had also talked about his soulmate, Josh, some more. About how they made a channel to play games with each other. How they even met and started actually dating because, to no fucking surprise, Tyler's soulmate had a hard time dealing with him. Michael almost felt jealous at how close they were. Almost. Then Tyler decided to change topics and ask Michael about his soulmates.

“What do you want me to say? I have five people marked on my shoulder I've never met.” Michael answered curtly, annoyance starting to build up and seep into his voice, “Fucking _five_ , dude. And I haven't seen a single one.”

“Well I can relate a bit then.” Tyler replied, something wistful and sad in his normally energetic demeanor, “Josh isn't my only soulmate, we still have one more left to find. Do you ever wonder what yours are like? What if they were all, like, quintuplets or something?”

Michael directed a flat stare at the blond, “I highly fucking doubt their all related.”

“But what if-”

Footsteps echoed suddenly, coming in towards them. Michael chuckled to himself as he realized these weren't nearly as panicked as Tyler had been. Like jeez, now that he thought about it, Tyler panicked for absolutely no reason. Speaking of, Tyler was currently placing himself on the log behind Michael. With Michael between him and the footsteps.

_You motherfucker._

He glared at Tyler over his shoulder, a sheepish and tentative smile answering his anger. The footstep drew ever closer, each step building a tense knot of paranoia deep in Michael’s stomach. As a figure became clearer as the footsteps grew louder, a noise from Tyler, a gasp or some girly ass squeal, barely gave Michael a warning as the taller man bolted towards it.

“Jon!”

He laughed, no remorse for whoever the unfortunate soul was to be the brunt of Tyler's attention. Tyler was a walking bomb of insane friendliness waiting to go off at any given notice, he already dealt with his own explosion, he relished to watch someone else deal. Michael was positive he looked smug, but why should he fucking care what some stranger thought? The tall leech was not his problem to fix.

“Tyler! Get off! You're worse than Emile!” The brown haired man pushed fruitlessly at his new appendage, his voice strangled and clearly annoyed.

Okay, this was still funny as hell, but Michael wasn't cruel.

“Yo dude! Think he needs to breathe still!” Michael called from his seat, taking no attempts to hide his amusement.

It seemed to stir Tyler out of his deadly friendliness, the dirty blond letting go with an embarrassed look on his face. This made the other let out a huff with a weak glare, his hand busy flipping off Michael, who only let his grin grow wider.

“Hey man, I had to be alone with him, I help no one.”

“Hey!” Tyler shouted indignantly, “I'm amazing to be around!”

“Sounds like Josh has been rubbing off on you.” The brunette, Jon(?), commented, an eyebrow raised and lips quirks up slightly.

Tyler started giggling immaturely at the notion, “He sure has, Jon!”

They bantered back and forth, catching up with each other, leaving Michael to watch and think about whatever this place was and how he got here. What would he do if one of his friends appeared here. He probably wouldn't recognize them, to be perfectly honest. Voice? Maybe. Appearance? Nope. He'd only met one in person and that was Ray, who lived out in New York.

_Why would Ray even be here? He's not even a pure._

Michael was so immersed in his own thought that he didn't initially here his name being called. He blinked and turned to Tyler.

“What?”

Tyler rolled his eyes, “I said, you should tell us about yourself.”

Michael stared at him, “Why.”

Tyler pouted, “I already know Jon. I barely know you and I'm bored.”

“I'm not some celebrity. I don't what about me would be that interesting.” Michael pointed out, eyebrow raised, “I'm a guy from Jersey. Nothing spectacular like YouTube star.”

He heard Jon chuckle a bit as Tyler did his best impression of a kicked puppy. He rolled his eyes, did Tyler really think that would work. He couldn't help but smile a bit though.

_These guys are okay._


	3. Nothing Good Ever Lasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael swore.
> 
> He knew. He. Fucking. Knew. 
> 
> It wouldn't have stayed quiet, dark, and dreary in the woods. It was wishful thinking.

It had been a while, Michael would guess days, since he first got here. Unlike how fast Tyler and Jon came after he did, nothing new happened in that span of time. During then, he grew into a comfortable friendship with the two men. They couldn't ignore the surrounding atmosphere, but they tried to make it lighter by talking and joking around. That's when another person arrived. He stumbled into the clearing with their apparently immortal fire (seriously, it hasn't gone out yet), wild eyed and panicked. He looked older than Michael and the others, sporting slightly unkempt facial hair.

“Woah, woah! Who are you!” He asked, yelled if Michael was perfectly honest, the trio.

“We're the lost souls of the forest.” Michael stated sarcastically.

“Oooo.” Jon deadpanned.

This annoyed the man, but made him relax and take in the area, “Okay, assholes, who are you really.”

“I'm Tyler!” Tyler yelled exuberantly.

This drew a raised eyebrow from the man. Jon shook his head.

“He's always like this.”

_And I wish Jon was exaggerating._

“I’m Jon.” Jon introduced himself.

“Michael.” Michael stated.

“What? How do you know my name?” The man asked.

“That's my name.” Michael replied, annoyed, “Are you kidding me? Of all the people, they send another Michael. God dammit!”

_Stupid spider demon and his freaky minions-_

The man chuckled a bit nervously, “Don't worry, I usually go by my nickname anyway. People call me Burnie.”

“What? Do you like setting stuff on fire?” Jon asked, Michael hearing a quiet laugh follow.

“No, my last name is Burns and there are, like, a million Michaels. Gotta be unique.” Came the answer.

Michael was about to reply when the ground started to quake under his feet. He heard the others yelling, Tyler doing more screaming. The world spin as something forced him to blackout.

Michael woke up annoyed and unamused. He was alone again, but he wasn't in the woods anymore. There were trees around, yeah, but it wasn't thick woods like before, the sky, a dark, inky black, was visible. He got up and a voice forced itself into his brain.

**_Find five generators, fix them, and find the exit. Don't let them find you. Don't die._ **

_Well, fuck! Where the hell do I find five **generators**?_

Michael found himself looking around, trying to see anything like what he needed. He saw hooks (creepy) and corn? It looked like corn. He walked carefully through the stalks and found himself in front of a giant engine.

“Well, what do I do now! I don't know how to fix a damn generator!” Michael’s voice was shrill.

He wished his job taught him anything like this, but no. He was drawing a blank on anything like this. Normal car engines, fine. Not giant industrial light engines. And suddenly, as if triggered by his thoughts, that damn voice came back.

**_Your mind may not know, but your body will. Let your instincts guide you._ **

What the hell was with this stupid voice, it was vague as shit and Michael didn't get what it meant. Then his body apparently decided to do whatever the fuck it wanted and went over to the generator and started to repair it. He watched in disturbed fascination as his body automatically went into repairing like a robot. He found he could still move his head and talk, but his body stayed at the generator. He looked around warily went the generator started to hum loudly.

_Nothing, but that voice said a person was trying to find me and probably wants to kill me._

Nobody was near, but he was paranoid. He'd watched those cheesy horror movies, he'd seen how those worked. His mind wandered, making him tense when rustling carried faintly through the noise of the generator starting to run. A mess of dirty blonde hair under a beanie made him relax as Jon stepped through the corn stalks to him, pupils blown wide, breathing loud and heavy.

“Michael? That you?” He panted.

“Yeah, what happened? You look like shit.” Michael replied bluntly, concerned.

“I-I was with Burnie. The guy who came right before. A-a guy came in to the clearing. Burnie, he…he knew who it was. The guy had a machete o-or a sword. Headed at me and I didn't see him, Burnie shoved me out of the way and got slashed on his hip. He told me to run.” Jon rambled, the snarky personality gone as guilt and fear ate into him, “Michael, if you see a guy with a gold crown wearing a skull mask, run. I…I need to find Tyler, I've known him and Josh for a couple years. I can't let him die. Don't die on me either.”

Michael nodded hesitantly, “Got it. And Jon, I know what we need to find to escape. We need to fix five of these generators, like this one, then find then exit. Don't die on me.”

Jon nodded and ran back through the corn stalks.

Much to his surprise, when Michael turned back to the generator, his body had stopped working on it. It wasn't on, but it looked like it was about to be. He guessed that Jon surprising him had given him control of his body back, but now he wanted the generator to run again.

_If that voice wasn't lying, then the generators probably fuel the exit locks so we can unlock them. It wasn't lying about the killer, so…_

He shook it off to focus at the task at hand. Michael was scared shitless, but he was determined now too. He had a will to live and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try and keep it that way. And Michael had apparently guessed right, since after a minute or two of his body working on the generator, the industrial light turned on. With one down (to his knowledge) he bolted through the corn to look for another one.

**_One generator started. One person injured._ **

He tensed, letting out a few choice swear words at the voice, but didn't stop moving. He slowed to a cautious stride as he looked around for any signs of gold glinting in the area. At least this told him that Burnie was fine, but he hadn't seen a generator yet. He wished he could just find something.

He stared at the metal hook. It was terrifying, yes, but he really didn't appreciate it coming into view after he had just thought about wanting to find something.

_Why are these even here? It's not like the killer on loose is incapable of killing us. He has a machete or whatever._

He continued past it, shooting a wary glare back at it as he did so. Much to his surprise, a generator sat a couple yards out from the hook. Nothing was around and there was a wall where the side with the light was pushed against which would make for some cover. A small closet was next to it, about a person wide in its length. He knew he didn't have the time to dawdle, so he forced himself to work on the generator.

Michael was surprised by the lack of further incident, the generator now done and the light on. The voice had told him that another generator had been turned on a few minutes ago and repeated the statement after his was done. He hurried cautiously to look for another one when he saw something that made him double take.

A cow, brown with white splotches, stood a few feet away. With instant regret of the action, he stepped closer to get a better look at the animal. As soon as the cow saw him, it began mooing. Loudly. He grimaced, swearing under his breath, as he tried to double back to the generator.

A red light began flooding in from that very direct as he caught gold glinting from the light’s source.

He'd found the killer.

He was screwed.


	4. What The Hell Was Even Happening

Michael stopped dead in shock before madly dashing in the other direction. If he was going to get gutted, he was damn well going to put up a fight. He flipped off the stupid cow when he past it, the rush of panic making him not notice if it was even still mooing.

**_Four generators started. None injured._ **

That sent questions to his head that he didn't have the time to deal with. He had a feeling he was still being followed and he even dared to take a quick look over his shoulder. He caught sight of the bright gold glittering and quickly turned back to running for his life. He found a house, barely standing and vaulted through the window frame. Next to him was a set of stairs going down into a dimly lit tunnel? Basement? He couldn't tell.

_Got nothing better to lose._

Mouth set in a grim frown, Michael descended the stairs.

_What. The actual. Fuck._

It was mistake to go down those stairs. The room was lit a soft red-orange, light swinging above the main piece of the room. In the middle of the room sat a structure made out of four of those hooks Michael had seen earlier, the ground immediately below soaked a deep crimson that Michael bet was blood.

“What the hell is this?” He whispered to himself, backing up and out of the room.

Or at least he tried to.

In reality, his back hit something. No. Some _one_. Dread hung heavy in his chest as he twisted around to look at the person. And, yep. It was the killer. The same one who was about make a swing at him with the machete before they ended up making eye contact.

It was like someone had set fire to his left shoulder and he looked under his shirt to peer at it. One of the wedges of his soulmark had colored azure, filling him with confusion, then horrified realization. His soulmate (one of five) was the guy trying to kill him. The one who…hadn't killed him yet.

Michael turned to look at the other man. The killer was groaning in pain, his machete forgotten on the ground as his hands pawed at his face desperately. As Michael continued to inspect the killer, he noticed the mask which wasn't even really a mask. It was something fused to his face, the ‘seams’ stopping before his ears.

“ Soul...mate…!  ” He heard the rumbling sound come from the killer, slightly muffled by the mask, “  My…Soul…mate…! Mi…ne…. ”

Michael felt trapped, the man blocked his only way out of the basement. He doubted he would get far without his absence being noticed. All thoughts ceased when the killer peered at him through his hands, blue eyes the color of ice. He was frozen under those eyes, he was like a deer in front of headlights. It was like his mind shut down, it was completely blank.

He barely registered the killer grabbing him. At least, until eye contact was broken as he was thrown over the man’s shoulder. He kicked and hissed and screamed his throat raw trying to free himself.

“Let me go! Put me down you piece of shit!” His throat hurt, but he was seething.

Michael started to lose energy to try and free himself. He slackened in the other man’s hold, panting. He glared weakly at the ground behind them.

_Why is he so fucking strong! I am a grown man. I shouldn't be lifted up this easily._

He hated this. He hated how he couldn't fight back. It bothered him how little the man was affected by him fighting back, the most he did was make the man adjust him over his shoulder.

He was carried for forever. By that point all the generators had been turned on and two people had escaped. He was surprised they hadn't all escaped but he guessed one of them was alone, he wasn't sure which though. He relaxed in the man's hold at this point, not even caring anymore about his predicament.

It took another minute or two for the killer to set him down. He barely registered it as his thoughts swam through his boredom. He lifted his head sluggishly, looking up at the killer. The eye contact immediately drew him in, like a magnet, and Michael was now gone to the world. The man sat down next to him, never breaking line of sight.

“Won't…Kill…Won't...Hurt.” He murmured, voice slowly gaining clarity, “ You… Are mine.”

Michael caught the mask disconnecting from the guys skin in his peripheral. He reached to touch it, able to break his eyes away from the man. He blinked, frowning when he tried to look around. He sighed, long and exasperated.

“I'm stuck here, aren't I.” He stated flatly.

He took a look around now that he was out of whatever had happened between him and the killer. It was a shabby house, not unlike the one with the staircase. It had a doorway with a wood palette in it and a window frame with no glass. A small closet sat in the corner. It was then that he caught sight of a hat moving behind the window.

_That's Burnie's hat. How'd he find me?_

He looked back at his supposed soulmate. The mask had mostly broken off, only the part surrounding the killer’s forehead was still fused. He didn't seem to notice, having gone back to mumbling to himself. The gold crown had slid off his head and fallen to the floor with a clatter.

Michael inched over to the window slowly, wary of alerting the killer. He made it and peered out, eyes searching for Burnie.

“Burnie!” Michael hissed quietly.

“Other way!” A voice, Burnie's, hissed back.

Michael turned his head and saw a grim faced Burnie. He gave a questioning look to the brunet, who glanced away, his eyes dancing with guilt.

“Michael. I…I know who the guy trying to kill us is.” Burnie sighed, “His name’s Ryan. We work together.”

“Dammit.” Michael’s lips were drawn thin in a grimace, “I also know something about the killer.”

“How would you-” Burnie looked him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“He's my soulmate. Our marks colored when I looked him.”

“Oh, _fuck!_ This is bad. This is very bad.” Burnie moaned.

“Why? Do you know his other soulmates?” Michael asked, taking a second to glance back at the killer, Ryan.

“Yeah. They aren't pures. And if you die, then that's bad.” Burnie explained, “Even worse to explain that Ryan killed you.”

“Don't...worry...I...won't hurt him.” A voice, unfamiliar yet also very familiar croaked behind them.

Michael jumped, spinning around to see an unfamiliar face staring back at him. Dirty blond hair framed a pained, blue-eyed face smiling at him and Burnie. The man was wearing the same clothes as the-

_Wait. Is this the killer? Is this Ryan?_

As if hearing his thoughts, Burnie greeted the man.

“Good to see ya, Ryan.”

Ryan stared, his eyes blank and unseeing for a moment before he he blinked and looked at him and Burnie. Ryan tried to smile at them, but it quickly fell as he gingerly massaged his jawline. Michael felt a spark of concern amidst a sea of other emotions, but he knew they needed to get out of this hellhole.

“So, Jon and Tyler already escaped.” He stated, turning back to Burnie, “And I'm betting we can escape this stupid ass dimension, or whatever it is by finding the exit as well.”

Burnie nodded, “I found the exit with them, but hung back to try and find you and maybe help Ryan. I guess you had the second part covered Michael.”

“Don't give that. I have no idea how the hell he was cured!” Michael argued, “We may be in even more trouble for all we know! That damn spider demon probably still wants Ryan, who is not a pure and can't protect himself from Arachnos’ powers. Dude, we don't even know if he is cured!”

Michael threw his hand up in annoyance, getting more worked up by the second. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to hit his soulmate for being corrupted. He wanted to hit the fucking spider deity for doing it. He wanted to hit himself for caring an ounce for someone who tried to kill him only half an hour ago. Michael was scowling, seconds from rampaging to get an outlet for the anger he couldn't handle.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder.

Instinct made him flinch and shake it off, but it had calmed him considerably. He looked at Ryan with narrowed eyes. The blond stared back at him, a smile in his eyes to compensate for the one he was unable to show.

“I'm getting better. My head’s clearing and I can feel the control over me slipping,” Ryan replied, his voice a bit hoarse, but sounding more human, “In the meantime, we need to get out of here. Michael is right, I'm still wanted, but as long as we get out, I don't think I can be directly influenced.”

“Then let's get the fuck out of here!” Burnie declared, ushering the two out of the house.

Since Burnie had been to the open gate before, he led the small group through the land to the exit. It Michael time to think on his soulmates. He knew he had four more of them and both Ryan and Burnie knew them. It made him worry when he remembered that none of the other four were pures, it'd be the perfect way to get at him for freeing Ryan, who was _still_ susceptible to corruption as well.

_If Arachnos figures this out and does try to kill me, I don't think it will be as easy as with Ryan. They can fight it, sure, but Arachnos is basically an all-powerful God of negativity. Damn it, I haven't even met them all and I'm going soft._

With Ryan back to a human, Michael couldn't feel the pull as strongly anymore. He'd place his bets that his status as a pure and the dark energies in Ryan acted like magnets, drawing each other. It would explain how Ryan was able to free himself and why his mind kept going blank from eye contact.

“ -chael! Michael!” Burnie's yells jolted him out of his thoughts, “Dude, we’re at the exit! What the hell's got you so spaced out?”

Michael waved him off, peering at the darkness looming from behind it, “Just some stuff, doesn't matter.”

He heard a disbelieving hum from Ryan, “Sure.”

“Well whatever.” Burnie shrugged, “Let's get the fuck out of here!”

They jogged out into the dark abyss, making sure to keep close to each other to not lose one of their threesome. They slowed the pace down to a walk as they continued until, finally, light made itself visible up ahead. The went towards it with no amount of hesitation, Michael hoping they had found their way out. It got closer and closer until they could see what it was. Horror and dread intermingled in Michael's swirl of emotions.

It was the campfire.

The very same campfire from before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm back, finally, with the next chapter! It was slow going due to an uncooperative, indecisive brain, but I got it to where I like it. For those curious, I'll be posting each new killer's set when they appear. So for today, here's Ryan's:  
> Main weapon: Machete  
> Secondary: Cow Spawns that alert him when players get close to them
> 
> This is definitely not the last killer, but we have a new party member! The lovely Ryan Haywood! 
> 
> Also, to explain what happened with the soulmark thing this chapter, it comes down to this. Due to Michael's status as a pure and Ryan having the corruption in his body cause a reaction when the bond from the mark formed. Normally, people who meet as soulmates would sense their bond form when they make eye contact, but the opposing forces in Ryan and Michael tried to prevent it, which in turn caused a powerful reaction in the bond and connected the two deeper than usual soulmates. You can see the proof in Ryan's breaking free of Arachnos' control and Michael's reaction to eye contact.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	5. Fate and Destiny Be Damned

It was like those stupid bonding circles in movies where people pour their heart out to strangers on a whim for no reason. Except Michael wasn't in a movie and Ryan and Burnie knew each other. He was determined to stay away from the the dirty blond as much as possible as the bond finally let him have a turn in his own mind for once. Yeah sure, Ryan seemed like a decent guy, but as far as Michael was concerned, the good chance he would've been murdered if not for the mark that was inked on his left shoulder left a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of trusting the man.

_Sure, just trust him. Then I'll go find the nearest cliff to jump off of._

Ryan claimed his mind was hazy from the incident, but Michael called BS. He was half certain the older man remembered more than he let on especially when Ryan grimaced as Michael and Burnie brought him up to speed. He was like Yugi or something, substituting ancient pharaohs and puzzles for corruption and evil deities. And if his comparison held true, he was well aware of what he'd done.

“So, you two gonna bang when this is over or…” Burnie drawled, question dry, but the humorous spark in his eyes told another story.

“Yeah, we’ll be doing hard drugs and I'll be blackout drunk.” Ryan countered, sarcasm evident.

Michael chose to remain silent. If anything, he wished Tyler and Jon were here just for some people who didn't know their almost killer, the two not having been at the fire when Michael, Ryan, and Burnie got there. But alas, here he was, stuck with a person he'd rather be avoiding and someone who's friends with him. He thought Burnie would've at least cared enough to be mad at the guy who macheted his side (there was even a hole across his shirt where Ryan had swung at him) , but as it turns out, Burnie was more intent on being buddie buddies with the man instead.

He wasn't being petty, just sensible. He was a New Jerseyan, trusting people you just met ends with a literal knife in the back. Even meeting people does that! That's how he got into this mess in the first place. A groan of frustration made it past his lips as he put his face in his hands.

_This is so fucking stupid. Why’d I have to take a shortcut home. Why couldn't I've stayed in the crowded sidewalk. Then this wouldn't even have been a problem._

The niggling part of his brain decided to be oh so kind in pointing out how Ryan would still be on a murder spree and stuck corrupted if Michael hadn't been transported here. Another groan, surely attracting the other two’s attention at this point, slipped out as his brain went to war over the matter. Logic be damned by the part that saw Ryan as his soulmate and thus wanted the man to be safe as his own reasonable side argued that man tried to _kill_ him. Soulmates or not, attempted murder is not the first thing people need to associate with their own soulmate.

A hand shook his shoulder as he found himself leveling a stare with a concerned Ryan. He hardened his gaze and shook off the hand, moving to sit farther away, but another hand shot out and grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip. He growled, turning back to glare at the offender, most likely Ryan, only to be matched with stormy blue eyes.

“Let go of me.” He demanded, voice short and furious.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck I did to be hated by my soulmate.” The word made Michael flinch involuntarily, “Ever since we found this campfire, you've been glaring at me.”

Michael barked out a cold laugh, “Don't bullshit me Ryan, you know exactly what you did. Hell, if you need any more proof, take a look at Burnie's shirt.”

“Wha-” Ryan turned to the man in question, his eyes widening as he saw the gash in his clothes across his right hip, “Did I? Was that from me?”

He felt a disapproving look as he heard Burnie's warning tone, “ _Michael_ -”

“ _What_? This world’s not sunshine and rainbows. If he really doesn't remember, he should at least know what he did to us. What were you gonna tell him. ‘Oh, ya know, got it snagged on something’. Yeah, like that's believable. That’s a **hole** from the giant **machete** he used to kill us. End of _fucking_ story. You and I both know it was luck we didn't both end up dead when it all went down.”

The grip on his arm slackened and he shook off the frozen Ryan. He sat down as far away as he could. The blond hadn't moved, his face stuck in a state of disbelieving horror. He caught Burnie's face, Stoney eyes meeting his challenging brown orbs, but he didn't give a damn whether Burnie wanted to sugarcoat Ryan's stint as a cold hearted killer.

“How far did I go?” A voice asked softly, clearly pained, a few minutes later, breaking the imposed silence, “ What…what did I do?”

Ryan's voice shocked Michael for a second, “You slashed Burnie across the hip. I guess this world works differently on how our bodies heal, since he somehow made it go away. You also chased me in an attempt at killing me and almost did if I wasn't you soulmate.” He glared hotly at the ground when he mentioned the last bit.

“Do I do anything else?” The quiet voice asked in response.

“I think it was you, but I'm not sure. There was this cow, brown with white splotches, it was basically a giant beacon to my location.”

A groan came from Ryan, “Of all the things it could be…”

He trailed off, no one else willing to pick up the argument afterwards. Michael knew he needed to keep a clear head here, so they could find a way out, but he just didn’t _trust_ Ryan. No while they were in the world created and controlled by the being that started everything. It would be too easy for it to force Ryan back to his corrupted state.

The silence remained until hurried footfalls came towards the fire. A black-haired man came into the light, confusion and wariness evident in his face. He took a look at the three, blinked, and looked at each of them again. His clothes were a bit dirty, but otherwise fine. Burnie took the initiative.

“Welcome to the worst place you could ever be.”

“Wh-wha-”

_Great first impression, dude._

“I'm Burnie. Blond’s Ryan. The asshole sulking over there is Michael.” Burnie pointed to each of them in turn, Michael flipping him off when he heard his introduction, “Who are you?”

“I'm Jordan…” He was hesitant, almost cautious.

“Well get comfortable, you're gonna be here awhile.” Burnie replied, patting the space next to him.

An itch wormed its way into Michael's head when he thought about when the group got transported last time. He couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity to how it was playing out before him. His eyes widened a fraction when it clicked.

_This is when we got transported last time. Of course Burnie wouldn't remember because he was the fourth person._

“Guys! I think this was how we got trans-” Michael tried to relay his realization to the others a fraction too late, the world around him shaking in an earthquake proving a big enough force to stop his sentence.

His vision was blurred out of focus (not even due to him losing his glasses) as he instead opted to try and reach for one of them instead. He blacked out right as his hand gripped fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back again, with a somewhat stable phone to boot. My screen's still loose, but that's old news.
> 
> Moveing on from my phone troubles, this chapter. This. Damn. Chapter. Ohh my god, did things go straight back into a nosedive. Michael is being a bit bitter and cynical about the ordeal now that the bond isn't messing with him. Burnie obviously doesn't approve. Ryan will probably never look at Edgar the same again. And we have Mr. Sparkly Pants himself, CaptainSparklez, joining the fray. Admittedly, I have no idea what I'll do with him, since I'm saving our Polaris babies for future interaction. 
> 
> Yeah, Jordan's probably only gonna be for this round, I dunno. Anyway, I have plans for the story still in the works so I'm not completely on a blind run through my metaphorical forest. I might take suggestions on some things though if need be, like who are our pures, who's soulmate is whose, and all that good stuff.
> 
> On that note, hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll be happy to see you stick around for more.
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	6. Fool Me Twice, I'll Be Dead

It was a slow process trying to gain the want to get up. Michael was comfortable where he was, the dirt…wait…dirt? He blinked and lifted his head to look at the ground. Sure enough, he was laying on dirt and sparse grass. He was still groggy and he tried to get up when he finally noticed the person pressed against his back. It was Ryan, still passed out cold next to him.

Memories of earlier flooded back as adrenaline kicked his body in gear. Michael scrambled back to his feet and debated leaving Ryan to get the generators for only a second, ultimately nudging the man until he woke up. A groan came from the man as he stared up at Michael blearily.

“Get up, we need to get going.”

“Huh?”

Great. Just what he needed right now.

_Only question left is who the killer is this time. It's obviously not Ryan._

“Welcome to the hunted side. We need to start moving.” Michael explained quickly, glancing around.

Ryan nodded slowly, getting up even slower before Michael grabbed his arm and dragged him through the barren land around them. The world was different this time around, like if the last world was hued orange, this was hued a greyish-blue. Wrecked car parts and tires were strew around and only one or two buildings (excluding the giant building in the distance) were visible. Michael looked around, trying to find a generator, spying the industrial light off to his right.

He loosened his grip on Ryan's wrist when they stood in front of the generator, quickly going up to start it. Ryan stared at it owlishly.

“What are you waiting for? Come help me!” Michael demanded, body tense as he kept an eye on their surroundings.

“How? I don't know how to fix that.”

“Shit. Forgot about that.” He cursed to himself, looking up at Ryan, “Let your body do it and if you hear a voice, it's trying to explain stuff. I dunno how else to explain it, your body just starts doing this on its own.”

“Okay…” Michael narrowed his eyes at the tone Ryan took, “What else should I look for? Gnomes?”

Michael was practically growling now, “Look, asshole, I'm trying to keep you alive. I could've just left you to fight it alone, but I'm giving you a chance to earn my trust. If your gonna be a dick about it, get lost. I could care less if you get attacked.”

Ryan looked at him skeptically, but took a step towards the generator, “Fine. I understand.”

_Sure doesn't sound like it._

He stared Ryan down until the other man got down to help him…and messing up everything. As soon as Ryan's body started to try and act on its own, Ryan resisted. His eyes were wild and full of panic. His arms spasmed and hit a portion of loose wiring, knocking it free and causing the generator to spark.

“Ryan?” Michael was more concerned with his currently non responsive companion, “You okay?”

“It…it feels like the corruption. I can't go back Michael. I want my body to be mine.” Ryan's voice was tight, his breathing heavy as he inched away from the generator.

_Oh fuck. What the hell is this place?_

Michael wasn't expecting something like that to spring up. Thinking back to it, however, lessened the surprise. Ryan got locked up with corruption in his body, of course having his body moving without his consent would be a sore spot.

“Stay close then, I'll work, you'll keep a lookout for any freaks coming to kill us.” Michael replied gruffly, “We need to turn these on to escape.”

“Yeah...yeah…okay.” Ryan mumbled to himself, nodding as if to make sure he was still in his own body, “I…I'm fine. I'm good.”

Michael spared an uncertain glance back before turning to the generator to gauge when it would be done. He didn't have much left to fix, the generator was close to starting. With no word from Ryan, in about a couple minutes, the generator light turned on.

Michael turned back to Ryan, a quick glance telling him Ryan was back to normal. He stood up and nudged the blonde.

“One done, let’s go.” Michael held out a hand, Ryan still sitting on the ground.

He pulled him up and they were off again. It was freezing now, the temperature taking a nosedive as they walked. Ryan was shivering beside him and against his better judgement, he took off his jacket and handed it to the man.

“No. No. I can't let you give it to me. You'll freeze.” Ryan shook his head, pushing the jacket away from him.

“Bull.” Michael stated, “I've worn less in worse and came out fine. Besides, I live in Jersey. It's basically the worst winter ever.”

He shoved it at Ryan, not relaxing his grip until he felt Ryan grab it. He looked away, guarding his emotions. He knew he would warm up to Ryan, he could tell as soon as Ryan had panicked earlier. His view of the situation changed when Ryan said those words.

_"I want my body to be mine". What is the corruption really?_

He blinked, mind focusing back to the world around him. He gave a glance back at Ryan, seeing him wearing the jacket now. It was a bit small in length, but didn't look like it was uncomfortable. Thank god it was big on Michael.

He shook his head, now was not the time. They needed to get the generators, hopefully without incident. Michael gestured for Ryan to follow him and started a light jog to their right. It was cold, not unbearably so, but enough to annoy him considerably.

His body went rigid, a shiver driven up his spine. Eyes wide, he tugged Ryan over to a broken truck and pushed him inside, climbing in after him. He peaked over the window and saw what he suspected was there. About 50 yards off was a man with a red light glowing around him, just like his predecessor, Ryan. He was in some sort of ragged wrestling costume, bottles tied to a belt on his waist.

“What's wr-” Ryan tried to ask him.

“Quiet. Stay. Quiet.” Michael hissed, voice barely above a whisper as he ducked to give Ryan a look.

He peeked over the rim again. The killer was still outside, but as Michael watched, he noticed the killer wasn't heading anywhere. The killer wasn't even walking correctly, stumbling and staggering as he walked, hands covering the sides of his head. Listening closely, Michael could even hear low moans coming from the killer.

“We need to get out of here. Now.” Michael stressed, swallowing roughly as he turned back to the blond, “The killer is right outside. We need to move, Ryan.”

“If he's right outside, where are we going to go?” Ryan questioned, eyebrows scrunched together as he gave Michael a worried look, “I doubt this thing will be a silent exit.”

_The longer we stay, the more likely we get caught._

“We have to try!” Came his retort, “We’re in more danger just staying here instead.”

“Well, if you're so keen on getting us out, what's the plan?” Queried Ryan, tone snappish, “Preferably one that doesn't involve us being killed.”

_Asshole. I prefer the Ryan that was unconscious._

Michael flipped him off, taking a glance over to see how far away the killer was. He was still roughly the same distance, but seemed start stumbling towards the car Ryan and him were in.

“We need to be quick. He's coming from my door, so we’ll need to go out your side.” Michael informed the snarky man, “He’s not onto us, I think, so we can probably get far enough that he won’t see where we went.”

“That's just asking for this to fail, you know?” Ryan pointed out.

“Just get going, asshole.” Michael grumbled, pushing Ryan forward.

Michael almost screamed in anger when the the car made the loudest noise it could when Ryan opened the door. He almost punched the car when it topped the noise when Ryan pressed on the door frame getting out of the car. He was terrified when he realized he had yet to get out and the killer had definitely noticed them.

“Ryan, you need to run.” Michael urged, staring at him intently.

“Aren't you coming with me?” Ryan questioned, like it was obvious Michael would.

“He's onto us, it'll take too much time trying to get out quietly.” Michael smile was grim, “I don't want to be the dick who got his soulmate killed. Just go, I'll find you later.”

“You better find me, Michael.” Ryan demanded, eyes resigned and sorrowful.

_I can only hope I will._

“You need to go. Try to find Burnie. I don't care, but get away from here.” Michael instructed, voice urgent as he turned to see through the other window to look for the killer.

Ryan was sprinting away when he turned back.

_The least I can do is save you. You deserve that much, Ryan._

It was grim, sure, but it was true. The killer was nearly to the car, his body movements rigid and jagged. His face, excluding his mouth, was covered in a bright purple, orange, and yellow mask, the same for his outfit which was torn in a few places. He only had the belt of bottles on him, the bottles clinking softly against each other,the water sloshing in each.

Michael knew he was fucked, he had no time to run. He was going to take it stride though, he saved Ryan, that's all he cared about right now.

The man drew closer, his puppet-like movements jarring to the eye. He terrified Michael. It was hell hiding in the truck in wait for the inevitable.

_I'm the diversion. It's worth it if everyone else survives._

A shadow cast through the window, red light falling through it softly. Michael's breath caught and he froze, a last ditch effort to save himself.

_Go away. Go away. Go away!_

The killer leaned in through the window and Michael's heart stopped. Adrenaline kicked in and Michael flung open the door, hitting the killer in the stomach. He scrambled out and tried to make a run for it.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

**Tried.**

The door did nothing to the killer and Michael was quickly grabbed by the ankle and dragged back when he tried to get up and run. He was flipped and promptly punched in the gut. The force slammed his head into the ground and he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... at least Michael doesn't hate Ryan? Is that a plus with what happened? Even I'm not sure and I'm the author! Seriously though, who can honestly say they expected me to do this? 
> 
> Anyway, who is the killer? I think I made it fairly obvious, so give your guesses. Also, put what you think the bottles are for. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	7. Though It Hurts Like A Bitch

Michael woke up over someone's shoulder. His gut was on fire, every shift from the person setting it alight with pain on top of the pressure from being slung over by the stomach. What happened? He wasn’t sure, his memories a blur after Ryan escaped. He didn’t know if he could walk on his own.

_Who grabbed me?_

Michael had a guess, but his brain was sluggish trying to recall the events leading up to this. His glasses were gone as well, making his vision a near useless blur of colors. It was useless trying to move with the pain, so he couldn’t trying and break free of the hold. The man adjusted him and a low moan pain was pulled from his lips.

_Ah, fuck. This hurts like hell._

The pain was fogging his brain, making it had to focus on anything. His mind drifted back to the time he got hurt in the alley. It was funny how close he almost ended up in this position last time. If he didn’t break free, who knows if he’d have been able to stay calm(er) here. He wouldn't have known what was going on.

_Where’s this asshole taking me?_

It was something that stayed in his fogged mind, curiosity keeping it in front. It was hard to focus. Really hard. Michael could feel his body draining, pain sapping at his energy. It took an effort Michael, quite frankly, didn’t have to say awake. His vision faded to darkness and he stopped trying to fight it.

\---

His consciousness was forced back when a blinding pain drove through his right shoulder. Michael’s eyes snapped open and a scream tore through his throat. His mind was a mess trying to process what happened.

_It hurts. ItHurtsItHurtsItHurts._

He could feel something driven through his shoulder. His skin and blood felt as if they had been lit on fire, a burn so intense it made his eyes water. His breathing felt off. He was starting to sweat profusely and felt like he was boiling despite knowing the air was next to freezing.

Michael was in agony.

His body barely responded, so enwrapped in its own pain, when he tried to feel out what was in his shoulder. Michael had to exert all his effort into bringing his uncooperative arms up to his shoulder. The movement set the blaze alight again in the wound, but he continued to try and grasp the offending object. It was smooth to the touch and felt like ice in his hands. A film or liquid coated the surface. He slowly moved his hands farther up the object. It sloped up, ending in a point.

_This...this is...one of the hooks…_

He didn't know how long he'd been on the hook. His head pounded. A static filled his ears. He couldn't see. Michael felt, no, **knew** he wasn't going to make it any farther. He wouldn't meet any of his other four soulmates. He wouldn't see Ryan again.

His body felt heavy.

  
Everything was darkening.

 

The pain had dulled to soft burning coals.

 

 

His head was filling with cotton.

 

 

  
He couldn't feel his legs.

 

 

 

 

Where was he again?

 

 

 

 

 

Who was he?

 

 

 

 

 

_Ryan…_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

\---

Ryan snapped up when he heard the bloodcurdling scream. It was unmistakable, at least it was to him. His glanced at his two companions who he'd found like asked of him, fear gnawing at his brain.

_What happened to Michael?!_

“We need to find Michael.” Ryan croaked, throat dry.

Burnie spared a glance back at Jordan, the raven-haired man antsy and nervous, “It’s not safe to go, the killer will-”

“WHO GIVES A DAMN!” Ryan roared, glaring down Burnie, “We need to save Michael! He's in danger and might be dying!”

“I get where you're coming from. I do.” Burnie began, hands reaching out and grabbing Ryan's shoulders.

“I feel like there's a ‘but’ coming.” Ryan growled, eyes narrowed as he stared down at one of his bosses.

“We can't risk it with this big of a group! There's too many of us to be able to stay hidden.” Burnie exclaimed, “If we get caught then not only does Michael die, but we will too! It's way too risky!”

“Then I'll go alone.” Ryan countered, daring Burnie to argue.

“I can't let you go alone either. Geoff will have my head if you die.” Burnie stated, “Michael’s a risk I can't take here, Ryan. I'm sorry, but we can't go save him.”

“You don't understand! I-I need to save him!” Ryan pleaded, “He's dying because he was trying to save me! He stayed to distract the killer because he wanted to buy me time! It's my fault if he dies! I need to go!”

“What do we do then!” Burnie exploded, throwing his hands up in the air, “In case you weren't aware Ryan, we can't split up without someone being by themselves.”

“I'm going to save Michael.”

“Get back here Ryan! If you don't come back, I swear to god you're fired!” Burnie yelled at Ryan as he ran towards the scream.

Burnie watched him leave, conflicting emotions gleaming in his eyes, a sigh, stressed and weary, escaping his lips, “At least stay safe, asshole.”

\---

Ryan raced through the wreckage and junk towards the scream. He didn't care if the killer found him, he needed to save Michael. Michael gave him time to escape. He wasn't going to let that go unpaid.

Something appeared in the sky as Ryan ran. Dark clouds gathered together as pitch black tendrils accented with glowing cinders slowly descended from their swirling depths. Ryan wasn't idiot, it wasn't hard to put two and two together and know Michael was probably at the center of the dark mass. He wasn't sure what it was there for exactly, but he had feeling it wasn't good.

He ran faster. As he drew near the mass in the sky, he saw a fiery light glowing dimly in front of him, surrounding something. No, some _one_. Michael. A bolt of terror struck through Ryan. Michael wasn't moving. He dashed up with a burst of speed and saw a sight that was nauseatingly horrifying. Michael was dangling limply from a hook driven through his shoulder, blood flowing sluggishly down from the wound. His face was pale and glistening with sweat. Ryan carefully reached up to him to touch him, but held back. He wasn't sure what to do.

_Those clouds are probably drawn to the hook._

In the corner of his eye he noticed more of those tendrils forming to surround Michael, their base on the back of the hook. They were translucent and most likely incorporeal at the moment, so that left Ryan some time to get Michael off the hook. He let his logical side take over to keep himself from breaking down at the sight of Michael half dead on a hook. He was going to have to pull Michael off the hook.

It was curved, obviously, so it's curve was where Michael was hanging meaning he'd have to lift Michael up. He wasn't sure how heavy the other man was, but it going to be a bit difficult since Michael was a full grown adult.

Ryan gripped Michael around the waist and lifted him up, his body much lighter to lift than Ryan thought initially. Then gravity and sudden lack of any other support led to Ryan being knocked to the ground by Michael’s weight. He was a dead weight on top of Ryan and while the rise and fall of his chest was a reassurance that Michael wasn't…well…It wasn't helpful getting him off when Ryan was stuck on the bottom.

He was going to apologize to Michael when he woke up, but they had a good chance of getting caught if they stayed here. He put all his strength into pushing the other man off of him, wincing when Michael rolled into the ground face first. He bent and picked him up with a bit of difficulty due to him being only slightly smaller than Ryan. Ryan carried (well, dragged really) Michael back the way he'd came.

Man, Michael was _heavy_. Maybe that was the soreness from the run there talking, maybe not, but it didn't change the fact that Ryan was half limping in an attempt to keep Michael’s weight at least balanced towards Ryan. He wasn't sure how he'd gone through the years thinking it looked _easy_. This wasn't easy, this was stumbling like a drunk ballerina or an everyday Gavin. The man was a tornado of disaster on legs.

_Gotta hope I find Burnie soon. At this rate I'll lose feeling in my arms._

He caught sight of the building he'd found Burnie and Jordan (that was his name, right?) hiding out in. He limped a bit quicker and somewhat unsurprisingly, found that they had left. He carefully tried to set Michael down, succeeding until Michael slipped a bit, falling to the ground a bit rougher than Ryan had hoped for. Once Michael was down, Ryan felt his body give out from exhaustion, slumping down next to Michael, panting slightly.

He rested his head against the wall and turned to look at the unconscious Michael, a faint laugh breezing past his parted lips.

“Quite the mess we've made for ourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super Ryan to the rescue boys and girls! That's what theater and modeling do, they make you a super hero. Seriously though, my thought process was like "Hey, Michael is passed out, so who should I go to?" The killer was a no no. It's still a mystery to the people who haven't figured out who it is, so until then, no extra hints! Only you can guess evil killers!
> 
> On a side note, I was a bit mad I didn't hit my 2K words (or close enough to count) quota I like to set. Especially since we had Ryan cam on! Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	8. As Ray Would Say, YOLO Right?

Ryan felt the irony a mile away. Last time him and Michael were like this, at least the bits he could remember, he was the one saved courtesy of the mark on his right bicep. The bond between him and Michael drove out the corruptive forces that had hijacked his body. That experience…he would never wish anyone to go through that. It was out-of-body for sure, but it was more like looking through water, everything was distorted, foggy. Michael’s eyes were the first thing from that ordeal that he could remember and the memories steadily pieced in as he broke free of the control over him.

Michael's breathing had gotten better, less shallow, but he didn't wake up. He wasn't even roused by Ryan carrying him. It was terrifying to see one of his soulmates in such a state. Michael was definitely going to have some damage from that hook, broken bones in either his shoulder or rib cage depending on where he was hooked. The hole in his shoulder also looked...disgusting. It was turning black at the edges, something that wounds this big shouldn't do.

_Something must've been on the hook. No infection I've ever seen spreads that fast._

It was killing the skin around the wound, leaving it dead and flakey. Ryan reached out towards it almost instinctively and felt a pull in his body to move and help Michael. He felt alarm bells ringing that this was bad, he should be in control, but he pushed through his panic with sheer determination to help Michael. As his hands moved to clear out the wound of Michael's shirt, he noticed it slowly turn back to the reds and pinks of the inner body. His body moved to put a hand on Michael's back to prop him up a bit and it brushed against something rigid and bumpy. He narrowed his eyes in confusion and craned his neck to see Michael's back. It was shadowed slightly, but as Michael's wound closed, a scar was forming on his right shoulder, the thin, spidery lines forming a demented-looking soul mark. The lines were obviously made with a sort of precision, perfect circles and corners coming back into place to form a spider inside of a circle.

The wound soon closed completely, getting the first response from Michael. He shifted a bit in Ryan's hold and settled back into his unresponsive state, his face now relaxed. Ryan stared at his stress-free face in relief.

He chuckled a bit, “You sure know how to worry a guy, Michael.

\---

He blinked tiredly, his body feeling like he ran a marathon.

_What happened? Why is everything so dark?_

He looked around at his surrounding sluggishly, his brain slowly processing the details. It was dark. It was empty. It...wasn't really cold. His brain was content to fuck off and let him go to sleep again.

“ _I really need a coffee. Jesus Christ, am I tired._ ” He yawned.

“ _Wait, wha-?_ ”

His eyes widened in disbelief at how his voice sounded. It was distant and echoey, like he wasn't saying anything, but someone else was. He scrambled to his feet and tried to see anything at all, to no avail. It was pitch black. He couldn't even see his hands in front of his face. Welp.

_Guess I'm stuck here. Wherever here is…_

It was mystery. Like what if he'd been kidnapped? Or this was some sort of prank? For all he knew, he could be naked. As soon as the thought hit, he quickly patted himself to confirm that, yes, he was wearing clothes. A sigh of relief echoed around him to remind him of his predicament.

Well, he had nothing to lose, right?

And thus, he set out on his adventure through the dark, uh, place…yeah…

_I really need to find out what this place is…_

\---

Ryan, in all of his spontaneity during this excursion, decided to try and find the exit to this world because, fuck it, what could go wrong. He'd ran to find Michael despite the risk attached, he could get him and Michael out easily. He just hoped he didn't just jinx his chances.

He scooped up Michael onto his back and carried him piggyback. He found himself hesitant to leave, but Ryan was sure this would continue till either the both of them were dead or they found the exit.

_It's like that game PT that we made Geoff play. It just keeps going till you beat it or Geoff gets killed for going in everything ass-backwards._

He peered out the doorway cautiously and, after nothing came at him, he made his way close to the walls enclosing them in. This way he could be sure he wouldn't run in pointless circles. Ryan took a look around him to see for anything that could even be described as out of place and when he saw none, he continued on next to the wall until he reached what he recognized to be the exit. He moved as fast as he could with Michael on his back when movement prompted him to turn around and look back into the killer’s area. Standing there, body from the torso up hanging limp, was someone he knew. The outfit was unmistakeable. The bottles were something he knew the person loved using in Minecraft.

This was one of his soulmates.

This was Jeremy.

He was the killer, the one who hurt Michael.

Ryan didn't have much of a choice as he was forced to run to safety as Jeremy made a lunge at him.

\---

Ryan broke down when he reached an empty campfire with no people in sight. It was all too much. Too much pain. Too much corruption. Too many lost to the bitch god Arachnos. He laid Michael down in the grass and sat on a log, his head dropping into his hands as he struggled to regulate his breathing. His face felt wet, but it was a passing thought in his spiral of panic and hollow sadness.

His throat felt constricted, his mouth dry. It was like trying to breath through a blocked tube, his lungs burning from lack of air. When did it get so cold?

“Mmnn…”

He stopped breathing.

Michael was waking up.

Ryan suddenly felt self conscious. If Michael was in his shoes, he'd deal with it fine. He wouldn't care much, he'd probably only get mad. Ryan knew he looked pathetic right now.

He looked over at Michael to see him staring at the sky blankly with half lidded eyes. Ryan scooted over towards him hesitantly and called out to him.

“Michael?”

Ryan watched in concern as Michael tilted his head his head and stared at him with the same blank stare. He continued to stare as Michael blinked and tried to move. The russet haired man’s eyes screwed shut and his face contorted in pain. Ryan felt a rush of panic and shot towards him to try and help.

“Michael! Michael. Where does it hurt?”

Michael tried opening his mouth, but couldn't get any words out. He lifted up his hand and gestured to his stomach. Ryan carefully reached and pulled at his shirt to try and see how bad it was, but paused when Michael tried to bat his hands away.

“You're hurt, I need to see how bad it is.” Ryan chided him, gripping his shirt in another attempt.

Michael swallowed and opened his mouth to speak again, “ ‘S fine, stop tou-”, he swallowed again, “touching.”

Ryan sighed, “You can barely move. Let me see what damage you have.”

“Donwanna.” Michael rasped, his speech slurred slightly, “I…I'll be fine…gimme a sec.”

“Like hell you will.” Ryan deadpanned, “I saved your ass. You should count yourself lucky you weren't dead from blood loss from being hooked.”

This reduced Michael's protests to a quieter mutter as he stopped pushing Ryan away from his stomach. Ryan finally got to pull up his shirt and inspect the damage and found a sight of dark purples and reds marring his abdomen. At this point, he came to realization that A) Michael didn't give a fuck about acting like a proper adult when put in a situation like this and B) Michael's ribs were very likely cracked or broken. His panic from earlier all but gone, Ryan let his body go and work on Michael, pushing back his knee jerk response to lack of body control.

He watched carefully as the rainbow of bruising slowly receded to a stable color. Michael was also slowly relaxing and his body seemed to slacken as the pain must have been leaving with the bruises. He watched it all in curious fascination.

_What is this place? Nothing on earth could empower people to this extent…_

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the annoyed Michael. He looked down to see his hands were still on Michael's stomach and hastily moved away from the man. Michael sat up and looked him dead in the eye.

“What happened.” It was a demand, not a question.

“I'm not sure. I ran like you told me to and met up with Burnie and Jordan. According to Jordan, they'd set up the last generators while we were separated and were trying to find an exit. While we were looking, you screamed…” Ryan hesitated, memories of Michael's body dangling on the hook flashing through his brain.

“Ryan?” Michael's tone was…concerned.

“I-I ran to find you. It wasn't too hard because these weird dark clouds appeared and were swirling around something. It must have been you. I…Michael….you were just…” his breathing picked up, getting faster and faster.

“What? What happened Ryan?” Michael asked.

It was all so much, too much. Images. Horrifying images. Horrible truths. They hurt, they burned, his skull pounded and his lungs fought for air.

“...C...an’t……brea….the…” he rasped, throat constricting in the fight for air.

\---

Michael watched in horror as Ryan was slowly losing his battle for air. He snapped himself out of it and set himself to try and help Ryan. Except…he wasn't sure how.

_What do I do?! Does the stuff on tv actually work?_

He slowly moved his hands to either side of ryan and looked him in the eye.

“Ryan. I need you to nod if you hear me.” Michael commanded, eyes searching desperately to see signs of this working.

A unsure nod.

“Okay. Okay…” he said to himself, fighting of his urge to panic at not knowing what to do, “Ryan, I need you to breathe with my counting. Okay?”

Another nod.

“Breathe in. 2. 3. 4. Breathe out. 2. 3. 4.” He guided, relief bursting when he saw Ryan's breathing slow down, “In. 2. 3. 4. Out. 2. 3. 4.”

He repeated the process until Ryan had stopped breathing erratically. Michael punched him the shoulder when he was breathing steady without any help.

“Ow! What was that for!”

“For worrying me, asshole.” He muttered, looking away with a slowly reddening face.

“It's not like it happened voluntarily! I didn't intend to have a panic attack!”

“Just…tell me when you don't want to talk about something. I'm guessing something bad happened back there, but I won't ask.”

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back! Man, has this chapter been a slow go in getting typed out. Literally, school has been a bitch. I've had no time. 
> 
> So Ryan had a panic attack. That happened. Michael has seen stuff on tv. Mysterious person mid chapter is mysterious. No biggie. But I hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	9. We're All A Bunch Of Goddamn Fools

Michael, despite first appearances, will try to have some amount of tact if he knows something's touchy, but here he was at a loss. Ryan had retreated back into himself and had a look of dark remembrance on his face and Michael desperately wanted to break the oppressive atmosphere weighing on him. It was bad enough to have the feeling that you were out of line, but now Michael just felt like an asshole for treating Ryan harshly the last time they were at this campfire.

_He's made it clear that the corruption was glorified possession and he even saved my ass when I was trying to save him. And I've been a dick to him for half the time we've met._

He wasn't sure if Ryan even liked him after all that.

_I feel like a fucking schoolgirl…_

He wasn't going to deny the fact of his growing attraction to the other man. The soul mark just affirmed that Ryan was one of five who he was drawn to. The azure section of his soul mark attested to this. The natural pull was a small factor, but something that provided groups with a starting point, the pull receding after the group’s marks colored. As his thoughts drifted to it, he remembered how he reacted to meeting Ryan:

_ ‘Michael felt trapped, the man blocked his only way out of the basement. He doubted he would get far without his absence being noticed. All thoughts ceased when the killer peered at him through his hands, blue eyes the color of ice. He was frozen under those eyes, he was like a deer in front of headlights. It was like his mind shut down, it was completely blank.’ _

This brought up a lot of questions. Mostly due to the craziness, Michael barely noticed the pull had disappeared which brought to mind the question of when. Michael knew for a fact he couldn't feel anything for Ryan when he was the killer. It wasn't too much of a stretch to guess it had to do with the brand on his right shoulder or Ryan's corruption. It made him contemplate and it brought to light a very important issue. One that he noticed as soon as he thought about it.

“This is…oh _crap_! This is bad.” Michael groaned, eyes going wide as he put his face in his hands, “How…what even can we do! This…last time was just luck!”

He barely noticed Ryan until the other man shook his shoulder.

“Michael? What's wrong?” He asked, Michael barely even listening in his rising moment of realization, jolting out of his stupor to give Ryan a scared look.

“Ryan…I can't feel the pull from the others…” Michael croaked, voice breaking as he swallowed to clear his suddenly dry mouth.

“It might not mean anything. This place could be messing with the bond.” Ryan tried to reassure, his own tone betraying his own doubt, “It’s probably just the power from this world.”

“But-”

Michael stopped himself, a hesitance to say his next words coming when he remembered what Ryan went through a couple minutes ago.

_I… I shouldn't…not after he just went through a panic attack._

Ryan, however, caught on to his reluctance, “What? Is it not just that? Michael, tell me what's wrong.”

“The pull. I…Ryan, if I could feel yours after making eye contact, but the other four…if that mark I got didn't block the bond, the others were corrupted, just like you were.” Michael sighed, “All of them are probably in here.”

Surprisingly, Ryan didn't seem as surprised as Michael thought he would. He had a look on his face, it was filled with sadness and despair, but nowhere on it was anything remotely similar to surprise. The blonde retreated back into his thoughts and Michael let him.

“It really was him then…” Michael caught Ryan murmur.

“Was who?” Michael inquired, trying to act in a way that put pressure on the other man to answer.

“Huh?” Ryan glanced up questioningly, “Did you say something?”

“It was nothing.” Michael shrugged because it honestly was, he had faith Ryan would tell him at some point.

“...” Ryan stared him down in suspicion, before relenting when he noticed Michael wasn't lying, “If you're sure…”

And that was it. Ryan hadn't gone into another attack and seemed better overall. Something was obviously bothering him, but by this point, Michael was fine to leave it until Ryan wanted to tell him.

\---

It honestly took awhile for anyone to show up at the campfire. Either that, or Michael's sense of time was moving at molasses speed. Ryan seemed to be completely immersed in his own thoughts and Michael didn't feel any real need to disturb him.

_I wish something would happen at least! This is fucking boring!_

He grumbled to himself quietly and he sat with his face resting on his hands, watching the shadows of the woods around them. It annoyed him to no end that he was stuck sitting _again_. At least last time he had Tyler for a good chunk of it to talk to.

_I wonder what happened to him…_

His thoughts abruptly came to a screeching halt as rustling and footsteps rang towards the campfire. Ryan didn't seem to notice, but would probably want to know before something or someone scared the ever loving shit out of him. Though funny, ultimately not worth it if he found out Michael knew that the…thing? Person? Probably a person, was coming.

“Hey Ryan?” Michael called, earning no response for his effort, “Ryan!”

“Huh?” Ryan jolted, looking up at him with wide eyes, “What's wrong?”

“Someone's coming.” Michael answered, gesturing towards the source of the noise, “Though you'd appreciate not getting surprised by them.”

“Uh…yeah. Thanks, I'd rather not.” Ryan nodded, fixing an uneasy look at the direction the noise was coming from, “I've already had enough surprises.”

The person to come through the shadows of the bushes and trees was a woman with hair akin to fire, even more than Michael's own curls. She didn't even seem remotely panicked, just a look of annoyed confusion splayed across her face. He heard Ryan's gasp of surprise and subsequent reveal that he knew the woman.

“Lindsay…” It was a near whisper, but Michael caught it.

The woman looked around the lit up clearing before her eyes settled onto the space to his left where Ryan was sitting.

“Oh my god! Ryan!” She exclaimed, the relief in her voice palpable as she made her way over to Michael's soulmate.

“H-how?” Ryan stuttered, his eyes wide with shock, “I didn't think you were a pure, Lindsay…”

Lindsay grimaced, “Yeah, neither did I.”

She turned her gaze to the side, finally noticing Michael, “Ah! Hi! Who the hell are you?”

He could hear the sigh from Ryan coming from a mile away, “This is Michael, he's the last one, Lindsay.”

“Hi.”

Lindsay moved up to him and proceeded to stare at him. He returned her look with an annoyed look of his own, he didn't get what she was doing.

“What the fuck are doing?” Michael asked bluntly, not breaking eye contact.

“Hmm…” was the only reply Lindsay gave.

Then she backed away, a cat-like grin breaking her previously concentrated features, “He's clean, Ryan!”

Another sigh emanated from Ryan, “You did this with Jeremy too. What are you even doing?”

“Like I said, making sure he's clean.” Lindsay replied cryptically.

This irked Michael, “What? Do you think I do drugs or something? What the hell do you mean ‘clean’?!”

Lindsay laughed, not even bothered by Michael's anger, “I was making sure you weren't going to be a bad soulmate.”

This caught Michae by surprise, “That doesn't make sense! How does staring at me get you to that!”

“I was seeing if you would meet my eyes or not. A lot of people who aren't entirely truthful can't look others in the eye.” Lindsay explained, earning a bizarre look from Ryan.

“When did you learn _that_?!” Ryan's face was one of comedic surprise, disbelief dripping from his tone.

“Ehh…Meg and me get bored and start looking shit up on the internet when we're alone.” Lindsay waved off Ryan's words, following it up with a not-too-innocent giggle, “Well, when we’re not doing…stuff.”

Michael watched Ryan roll his eyes at the bubbly woman which earned him a joyful laugh from her. Ryan's previous tension died slightly, his shoulders more relaxed and his face, while still weary, had a tired fondness.

“I don't think me or Michael need to know what you do with your soulmate.” Ryan dryly informed Lindsay, laughing slightly when she wiggles her eyebrows in response.

“You never know~”

“Nor do I want to.”

“Think of the views, man!” Lindsay shouted desperately, her attempt failing slightly when she started to giggle while she spoke, “Ryan, think of the views!”

“I have five people that I'm happily tied to. Plus, I spent all that time with Meg on Free Play, I think I'm good.” Ryan responded.

Michael had given up following whatever the hell they were talking about at this point. All he could gather was that Lindsay and whoever Meg was were soulmates and that Ryan knew Meg as well. The rest went sailing past him with no hope of understanding what it meant.

_I at least got to meet Burnie and Ryan separately. I don't even know what the hell’s going on now._

That is, until Lindsay turned to him and asked, “So what about you and Ryan?”

\---

“ _I'm never getting out of here, am I?_ ” he sighed wearily.

He'd been walking for an eternity, but lo and behold, the darkness didn't seem to have an end. It was just…kinda there, to be honest.

_I don't even know if this place **has** any walls._

He knew it had a floor because, well, he didn't want to get a headache thinking about what he was walking in if it wasn't a floor. Though that was it, really. He wasn't even sure what he looked like. For all he knew, he could be wearing something ridiculous.

“ _This place will be the death of me, I swear._ ”

And he had no other option except going forward because, frankly, eternity in this darkness pit wasn't appealing in the slightest. He just wished that he wouldn't get tired. If he was going to be here a while, he wanted the energy to at least try and find an exit.

How'd he even get here anyhow? That part still got to him. It was like a chunk of his memories that he felt should have been there were gone. All of his memories cutting off at roughly the same morning.

_Aw man…_

He sighed, letting himself deflate a bit before stretching, “ _Got nothing to lose in here, right?_ ”

_I mean, the only way to go is forward._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay! I live! And oh boy did this take a while. I don't have the most whimsical of reasons, that being school decided to shove itself into all my time like a metaphorical clingy girlfriend/boyfriend. Plus, I don't think my school would appreciate me using their stuff to write a fanfic like this (as in the tons of swearing). Plus, I've had the discovery of a new favorite video game series, Danganronpa, and have been infatuated with it for a while. Like, my brain wants to write fanfics for it and I'm like 'I kinda need a priority check, stat'. It's 1 AM, ignore my rambling.
> 
> Moving on to the chapter, we got ourselves a Lindsay Jones (Tuggey for this because of obvious reasons) and man, do I love writing for her. She's had a bit of spontaneity to her that I always liked and I feel like her and Meg as a duo (Note: They are a two person soulmark) just made for good times with Ryan, especially with Free Play as a thing. I miss Meg...(but am fine with her choice).
> 
> Now, place your bets as to who our mysterious 'lost in a dark pit' man is! And a shoutout to a comment last chapter sent to me by Magical_librarian. Even if it was just a simple 'this seems interesting', it reminded me that other people read my work and I want them to. So, as soon as I read it, I was determined to finish this chapter. So huge thanks! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	10. In All That Is Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, we'll be exclusively in the POV of the mystery person introduced in the previous couple chapters.Second, a warning, this chapter is most likely going to come off darker and more uncomfortable and it's intentional. If you are put off if something is uncomfortable, you probably shouldn't read on. It's not so much graphic stuff, so you don't have to worry about that.
> 
> I just wanted you to know, just in case. With that out of the way, read on!

The farther he walked, the more doubts crept into his thoughts. No light and no end yet was making him really believe that this...space...was endless, that he wouldn’t be able to escape. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty, but boy did fatigue still hit him hard. His legs ached and his eyes felt heavy.

…

“Are you lost?”

He nearly screamed when a hand tapped him on the shoulder...and actually screamed when he turned around to stare at a near perfect copy of himself. It startled him so bad, he fell flat on his ass.

_W-what the hell is this?!_

His twin was creepy as fuck, a glow radiating from his body without lighting up anything and his-its eyes were completely black. It was like some horror movie came and possessed real life.

“ _S-stay back asshole!_ ” He stammered, trying to get away from his disturbing double, “ _I-I-I…_ ”

But his double just kept stepping closer, until he was forced to try and get up and run to stand a chance of getting away. He flipped over and pushed himself up off the ground, breaking into a sprint when he stood straight again. He bet his speed put Olympians to shame.

One problem was quickly coming into importance. He was getting tired again, at an alarming rate, actually. He wouldn’t be able to keep running for much longer. A creepy double could only stave off so much fatigue. As his thoughts scrambled to motivate him to keep going, one in particular had him touching the back of his neck.

_I still haven’t found my last soulmate yet, I can’t give up._

A burst of determination mixed with adrenaline sent him running again, but adrenaline only works for so long. He stopped, panting, with his hands on his knees. A realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

_Wait. Was he even chasing me?_

He snuck a look behind him and didn’t see his double anywhere. He turned around fully in confusion, looking around for the double.

“ _Where the hell did he-_ ”

Something grabbed both his arms, while a hand covered his mouth before he could scream. That didn’t stop him as he still screamed anyway, trying to struggle out of the hold he was in. The fucker was freezing! A warm breath next to his ear made him stiffen and fall silent.

“Now why’d you run away?” The voice asked, sounding bemused if anything, like it knew that he wouldn’t have escaped for long, “I really wanted to mess with you too, but now you don’t trust me.”

Wait...that was his voice! Err...if someone added a couple different octaves to it. What did this asshole want from him?

“Well, it’s no matter, you’re trapped in here regardless of how far you run. I was just hoping for something amusing from you before you inevitably give in.” His voice continued, face way too close to his own for his liking, “Oh? Does this make you uncomfortable? Do you want those petty humans you beings call soulmates? Well, this is a place where even they can’t reach you.”

_I need to get away from this bastard._

“Tsk, tsk, trying to think of a way to escape are we?” A muffled gasp escaped his lips as the other effortlessly discovered what he wanted to do, “Now, we can’t have that! Then this wonderful game we’re playing will end and I’m having so much fun, it would be a shame for this to end.”

_I really, really want to kick this guy in the balls now._

“I’m hurt, I’ve been taking such good care of your body while you’ve been here! I expect a thank you at least.” The voice sigh dramatically, before gasping, “Oops, said too much there didn’t I?”

The tone of his voice said otherwise.

_He’s been taking care of my body? But that doesn’t make any sense! I’ve been here-_

An annoyed sigh interrupted his thoughts and he could practically feel the eye roll directed at him, “And here I thought you were one of the smart ones. Do I need to spell it out for you? Or would a walk down memory lane suffice?”

_Huh? Memory-_

Images hit his mind with the force of a freight train. Him and his soulmates at work, getting ready to shoot a video. The blackout in the office. The earthquake that followed, forcing everyone to get away from anything breakable and dangerous. Black and red tendrils appearing out of the floor and coming at him and his soulmates. One grabbing his ankle and burning it, pulling him towards the source of the tendrils. His soulmates tried to get him free, but were only sucked in with him.

He would’ve crumpled to the floor if the other person wasn’t holding him. The images continued, showing an outside view of him dressed as that stupid wrestler from the WWE let’s play. He looked demented, like something out of those horror games he and the others have played. The image showed him heading toward a broken down truck with two people inside, one with red hair, the other with dirty blond. It cut away to an image of him sucker punching the redhead in the gut and, for some reason, his heart hurt a little at the sight. The next image was of him in the process of skewering the redhead on a hook. He squeezed his eyes shut, disbelief filling him.

_Why? Why would I do anything like that!_

The last image that came made his heart stop. It was a side view of him limply staring at...at...

_That’s Ryan…_

Ryan was carrying the redhead, who seemed to be unconscious, his eyes full of sadness and shock.

He could feel tears forming in his eyes, he’d almost killed someone and obviously Ryan knew them. He’d hurt someone who he didn’t even know! He didn’t know why he’d done something like that and it was killing him.

“So, how are you feeling now that you’ve seen how corrupted you’ve become, Jeremy.” The voice asked, addressing him by name for the first time, moving his hand off of Jeremy’s mouth so he could speak.

“ _I...I wouldn’t do something like that...hurting anyone like that…that isn’t me!_ ” Jeremy exclaimed in disbelief.

A snap sounded next to his ear. Light filled the space, revealing a flat expanse of land with a mirror directly in front of Jeremy. There he saw that his double from earlier was the one pinning him. A twisted grin spread across its face when Jeremy looked at its reflection in the mirror.

“Maybe not in mind, but anyone is capable of morally wrong acts if pushed the right way. You just required a bit of...handling, so to speak.” It looked down at him hungrily, eyes wild, “Your resistant spirit, it’s so, so addicting, Jeremy.”

To his horror, his double changed.

Now it was a black-eyed replica of Gavin.

“Like this here, you have so many open feelings for this one.” Gavin’s voice was in the same distorted effect as his double, but he could very clearly hear his British accent, “I bet that I could get you to give in by spending just a few minutes like this.”

“ _You’re not Gavin, you son of a bitch!_ ” Jeremy bit back angrily, glaring at the double in the mirror’s reflection.

“See what I mean? So much resistance!” The double purred into his ear, eyes half-lidded, “It’s such a charge when I find people like you, the fire’s intoxicating.”

Jeremy could feel part of his brain trying to give in, to fall back into the fake Gavin and just let everything else go. He knew better though, he knew it wasn’t Gavin. So why was it so hard to convince himself that?

“Did you think I wouldn’t have a way of breaking you from the inside, Lil J?” The nickname nearly sent him weak at the knees, “I can read your thoughts like an open book, but that’s far from my range of abilities. I could just collapse your will and determination right here and now, but where’s the fun in that?”

“ _N-no! Stop messing with my h-head_!” Jeremy screwed his eyes shut, he didn’t want to look at that-that thing anymore.

“Maybe this’ll change your mind…” The thing whispered and despite better judgment and self-control trying to stop him, his eyes opened to see what it changed into next.

There, holding his arms now, was the redhead he had punched and skewered. He wore glasses and his face had a resting anger in it. He looked like someone that would easily beat someone up for looking at him funny. Instead of a scowl though, a cruel smirk was plastered over his face.

“Oh, if only you knew who I was, Jeremy.” The man chuckled darkly, “How it would crush you.”

The man’s grin turned feral as he spun Jeremy around to face him, staring directly into his eyes.

Jeremy’s mark burned painfully, a stark contrast to the process of it coloring with his other soulmates. While there was a burn with them, it was nothing remotely similar to the agony his neck was experiencing. It felt awful.

“ _Wha...who is that…?_ ” He questioned while panting, the pain excruciating.

The other ignored him, looking around him to peer at the mirror, “So he’s red, how fitting for someone like him.”

The pain started to dial back to a dull throb at his neck, leaving him breathing heavily. Jeremy feebly tried to tear his hands out of the man’s grip, but the pain from his mark had sapped most of his energy. This, in turn, served to amuse the other.

“You still think you have a chance here, don’t you?” He asked mockingly, leaning in to caress Jeremy’s face, making him flinch, “You still think you’re in the real world too, don’t you.”

That last bit sent him reeling, “ _Where the hell-_ ”

The man morphed again, this time taking the appearance of Ryan, but instead of the normal clothes the others wore, he wore a demented version of his Minecraft skin topped with a golden crown crookedly placed on his head. This...this thing embodied Ryan’s title of Mad King.

_Whatever this thing is, it’s fucking terrifying!_

Ryan’s deep chuckle rang out slightly twisted, more mocking than amused, “I’ll take that as a compliment, _Lil J_. For your information, from the second you woke up in that black abyss, you were no longer the one in control. You’ve been trapped in your own mind as soon as you arrived here.”

“ _But you can’t do that, it’s my body! Get the hell out of my body!_ ” Jeremy demanded, furiously trying to break the iron grip on his wrists.

“If my power in here is any indication, I don’t think you can support those words.” A small smirk wove onto the monster’s face, “In fact, I think I could even spice things up a bit.”

He snapped his fingers and the world around them shifted. The interior of a medieval castle replaced the barren field, decorated in shades of red and black. Jeremy was no longer in front of the thing copying Ryan, now he was shackled by his wrists, ankles, and neck to the foot of a throne matching the one from the Minecraft king let’s plays. The thing sat up on top, obviously enjoying the change of scenery.

“Ahh, this is a wondrous castle! The throne in particular is quite divine, wouldn’t you say?” The fake Ryan grinned savagely from his spot, “A little birdie told me how I’ve been on this throne a multitude of times. King Ryan, Mad King Ryan, Dark God Ryan! I’m sure he never intended the last one to be true, but no one’s here to stop me.”

Jeremy flinched at the mention of the real Ryan and their let’s plays. He wasn’t sure he wanted a let’s play of the last one after this was over. As soon as the thought appeared, the shackle around his neck was tugged violently, dragging Jeremy along with it. However briefly, he had trouble getting air into his lungs.

“I guess I have to give a live show of what exactly a Dark God can do since you seem _oh so_ confident that you’ll be able to leave.” Jeremy couldn’t snuff the surge of pride at hearing the low, furious voice directed at him.

_It may terrify the absolute shit out of me that he’s angry, but it’s fucking satisfying to get a rise out of people who think they’re above it all._

Jeremy winced when the shackle was tugged again, “I may be immortal, but I am not above getting my hands dirty to get what I want out of this. _Hell_ , I’d do that for fun, especially to my favorite victims. You know, the fiery, determined ones? They give the best screams…”

This thing seemed intent on making Jeremy feel as uncomfortable and terrified as possible. And it was doing that with ease. Jeremy felt his arm brush against its leg, quickly pulling back so he wouldn’t be touching the monster. The fake Ryan didn’t let him get too far, however, since he was hoisted into the air next to it by his shackles. It proceeded to place Jeremy on it’s leg with a warning tug at his neck shackle telling him there would be consequences to moving. Like when it was Gavin, it had it’s face way too close to Jeremy for his liking, making it hard not to flinch away from it.

Then it proceeded to scare the shit out of Jeremy.

By _licking_ him. From his neck to his ear. Slowly.

Jeremy went rigid. His mind was overcome with an overwhelming sense of wrong, disgust, and fear all rolled into a tight ball.

_Nonononono. Stop. Stop it. Stop that. Nononono._

“So. Much. Fun.” The pitch of its voice dropped to an inhuman level of low, “You are much more entertaining than your other soulmate, Ryan was it? He never put up much of a fight, so I just left him to his own devices.”

The monster was shifting under him, changing into a different person every second. It was like a mirage, an illusion shimmering and shifting with each movement. Jeremy knew better though, unlike mirages and illusions, this was one hundred percent real, unfortunately. Finally, it settled into what Jeremy thought was a man dressed in black business slacks and dress shoes. Jeremy had a feeling he didn’t want to turn around.

“Being a god of such an abstract concept lends a lot of flexibility, wouldn’t you say?” The thing was now speaking in a deep, baritone voice that sounded more human, “I can’t even remember how I came into being. I’m extremely pleased that some imbecile decided to awaken me, though. If it wasn’t for him, none of what’s happened would have ever occurred. I wouldn’t be able to ensnare people under my influence, I wouldn’t be able to snuff out those white lights floating in your race shrouded in darkness, really, that man may have singlehandedly condemned your entire planet. And for what? Fulfilling his own curiosity. He even had two completely pure partners, two who knew the danger I would wrought on the planet if I was ever to awaken.”

It stopped to chuckle at the stupidity of the man, “He essentially betrayed the two people who should theoretically mean the most to him. Even as a god of negativity, I would never be that cruel. On second thought, I would, but it wouldn’t be that surprising if I was, to be honest. Now I know you’re wondering why I told you this, right? Well, I thought I would drive home how utterly hopeless your situation is.”

Jeremy felt the hot breath fan over his ear, “You. Can. _Never_. Truly. Escape. Me. Now.”

Jeremy found he couldn’t even disagree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This chapter was a dozy wasn't it? Jeremy has officially been revealed to be our mysterious speak that appeared a couple chapters ago and now we know where he is. As to our shape shifting man, he is the sole reason that this chapter was so creepy. I didn't think it would get that bad and then I remembered that it would be in character for him to make it that bad.
> 
> Outside the story, hurray! I finally have a good way to post stuff here again! First, my phone was taken away. Then, my chromebook broke no less than 3 times in the span of a couple months (3-4 to be exact). I was left with no good way to get to AO3, but now my chromebook is fixed (or replaced, not sure) and I can write again!
> 
> On a side note, I found one of the more funny ways to proofread ever. I put it in one of the text readers and let it run. It actually helped a lot for words i forgot to put in or phrases that didn't make sense! So yeah!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Bye!
> 
> ~LadyHikari


	11. I'd Date You If We Weren't Tied Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael wasn't sure how one person could erase almost all the tension from the events of the last game Ryan and he was shoved into, but Lindsay was a definite wildcard at heart.

**Chapter 11 - I’d Date You If We Weren't Tied Already**

As it turned out, Lindsay was as predictable as she was pure (in a personality sense), which is to say not in the slightest. She had a knack for taking common sense and throwing it out the nearest window, especially so when the reason was “Fuck it, why not?”. This was quickly becoming apparent to Michael, what with the stories she had of herself and of Ryan. Her and her soulmate Meg complimented each other in a lot of ways from what Michael could gather from the stories, but as Ryan supplied to him, Meg was very content with egging on Lindsay in her wildcard endeavors. Michael had a feeling if he was in Meg’s shoes, he probably would be exasperated more often than encouraging.

She especially was getting a kick out of teasing him and Ryan over any and every bit of information she could get her hands on. Unfortunately, that lead to her wondering how the hell Ryan was here since, like herself until recently, she didn't think he was a pure. Michael was hoping it wouldn't get brought up and he assumed Ryan was hoping it wouldn't as well since he was trying to steer the conversation away from that topic just as much as Michael was.

“Ryan, how'd you get here anyway? I didn't think you were a pure either.” Lindsay asked, focusing her gaze on the blond man.

Michael gave Ryan a worried glance, the other catching his look with a similar expression. This wasn't going to be easy to explain for various reasons.

Michael decided to bite the bullet and be blunt about it, “He's not.”

“But then how is he-”

“No, Michael's right, I'm not a pure. We both know that much.” Ryan interrupted.

_Well this is going well_.

Ryan barreled on, “Michael wouldn't know how I got here and to be honest, it's all hazy around the time it happened. All I know is that something attacked the office and that's about it.”

“Then how'd you two meet up? That must've been a hell of a coincidence.”

“Lindsay, what were you doing before you found us and the campfire?” Michael asked cautiously.

Lindsay shrugged helplessly, “Walking through the forest? Same as you two…” She looked at both of their cagey expressions with a frown, “You two _were_ walking through that forest too, right?”

_I wish that was all we've been doing._

Michael swallowed dryly, “I was for a bit, yeah, but that was a while ago. The thing that made this can't really hurt pures the way it can with normal people, so it sends us here. Except not so _it_ can hurt pures,” he glanced at Ryan grimly, “But so that the people it catches can hurt them.”

Lindsay looked at both of them as the horror of the situation slowly dawned on them, “You don't mean that-”

Ryan cut her off, “That I was one of those people? That it was using me to hurt people? I wish that I could say no to that.”

The laugh that followed was bitter and humorless.

“But how are you here with Michael then! That reasoning doesn't add up!” Lindsay countered, a hope that she wouldn't be wrong evident in her voice.

Michael sighed, “That would be because of me. Trust me when I say that we both got out due to pure luck.” He glanced at Ryan before turning to look Lindsay in the eye, “Have you heard the stories about Arachnos, those bedtime stories parents would tell their kids to scare them at night, the ones where Arachnos would corrupt those who weren’t pure?”

“Umm…what does that-“ Lindsay started to say.

“He means they’re true! I got possessed by a fucking spider god and almost killed my own soulmate with a machete!” Ryan interrupted her, his eyes full of anger, “Plus, the other four are in here and Jeremy also almost killed Michael, okay? I...can we just talk about something else?”

Michael scooted over to sit next to Ryan, “You gonna be alright, man?”

“Please, just talk about something else. _Please._ ” Ryan begged in a whisper, “I can’t relive those memories right now…”

Michael was concerned, that was a given, but he felt horrible since he _knew_ Ryan was handling the messed up bullshit here badly. He’d _seen_ Ryan have a panic attack at being asked about what happened in the last area they were taken to. He knew all this and he felt like shit for bringing it up again. It’d seemed like Ryan was fine, but Michael should have known better. It wasn’t the fact he was taken here, no, it was how far he was under the corruption that was a sore spot, _especially_ since Ryan was conscious and aware during the corruption’s tenure in his body.

Lindsay looked torn between coming over to sit with the both of them and staying where she was.

“I’m shit at helping people feel better, you’re probably better at this than me.” Michael told her, gesturing at his withdrawn soulmate.

She gave him a grateful smile before she got up and sat on Ryan’s other side.

“Hey Rye?” She asked gently, contrasting her bombastic personality from before, “Have you told Michael about the other four?”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you never got the chance to tell me about them since, well, all of this shit went down.” Michael recalled, “All I know is that you work together and that one of them is named Jeremy.”

That drew an almost absent minded laugh out of Ryan, “They would’ve loved to meet you.”

“To be honest, I would definite hit that ass if we weren’t tied to other people.” Lindsay admitted, unabashedly staring at the ass in question, “Why do you get all the good ones, Ryan?"

A more honest chuckle rang out in response, “I think Gavin would tell you Meg is all you need.”

In the flickering firelight, the atmosphere morphed before Michael’s eyes from tense and foreboding to friendly and light, like this was just two soulmates and a friend at a bonfire.The dark forest was less ominous, the sky looked more natural, all around it was like nothing was wrong. He could feel the constant tension over his shoulders lifting and giving him room to breathe again.

“The hell? Is Gavin trying to nab my girl? Am I gonna have to fight a bitch?” Lindsay threatened, though her vibe was offset by her visible effort to hold in her laughter, “That sneaky British fuck…I always knew he’d been eyeing her up.”

_Even if I have no idea who any of the people they’re talking about are, I’m glad we have the chance to get away from all the stress in this hell hole._

Michael could feel the corners of his mouth pulling up as he watched Ryan and Lindsay reminisce. He was glad that he could see Ryan act normal for once. No panic, trauma, or bad memories, just a guy talking with people he’s friends with. Lindsay seemed to notice him staring at them and gave him a look that said she knew he was starting to have it real bad for Ryan. He coughed, and moved his gaze down to his lap as he decided to join the conversation.

“So who’s Gavin?”

Michael looked up in time to see Ryan give Lindsay a mischievous look like Michael was missing out on some joke.

_What the fuck..?_

“He’d punch him. I’d put money down on it.” Ryan began, instead of answering the question, “Gavin would get tackled before he even got chance to not piss off Michael just because he looks so punchable.” Lindsay nodded in agreement, while Michael watched the two in visible confusion.

“What the fuck are you two talking about.” It wasn’t even a question, more of a deadpan acknowledgement that Michael wasn’t following them, “Who the hell is Gavin and why do you think I’ll punch him?”

“Okay, okay.” Lindsay conceded, more laughter bubbling in her voice, “Gavin is one of the people in your orgy of a soulmate bond. He...is very good at pissing people off just by being himself.”

That earned a disbelieving stare from Michael and a hearty chuckle from Ryan, both speaking at once.

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“That’s pretty accurate.”

It didn’t take a genius to guess who said what.

Michael turned to Ryan in confusion, “Okay, so I know the whole bond is good at suggesting who people should be with, but how the hell have you stayed with a person who sounds fucking infuriating?”

“He’s like a fungus.”

“He’s a what? A fungus?” Michael's expression could only be described as bewildered, “Did you just call your soulmate a mushroom?” It was so nonsensical it made Michael laugh.

Ryan just grinned, “He grows on you, slowly, and then you can’t get rid of him.”

Of all the things he’d thought his soulmates would be like, a _mushroom_ was not topping the list of ideas. Michael knew he had a hell of a look on his face because it sent Lindsay and Ryan into peels of laughter.

“Is one of our other soulmates an onion? Are we tied to a bunch of soup ingredients?” Michael asked sarcastically.

“Well now that you mention it…” Ryan mused, resting his chin on his fist thoughtfully.

“No. Stop.” Michael deadpanned, “It was a fucking joke.”

“Heh, yeah, but imagine someone’s face if they found their soulmark on a potato or something!” Ryan suggested giddily, “It’d be _amazing_!” He sighed exaggeratedly in amusement.

“You’re insane. You know that, right?” Michael shook his head in exasperation, but he couldn’t keep the smile from worming its way onto his face, “Why the fuck would a _potato_ have a soulmark?”

“Well-...Uh-...” Ryan stumbled for a comeback before settling on probably the most childish response Michael had ever hear, “ _You’re a potato_!”

_I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown ass look more like a 5 year old than I have today._

And then Ryan had the audacity to try and look proud at his shitty comeback like it was amazing or something. That alone sent Michael into peels of laughter. He could hear Lindsay snickering on Ryan’s other side as well. Ryan’s annoyance was almost palpable.

“What! I thought it was good!”

Michael fixed Ryan with an amused stare, a few laughs still tumbling from his lips, “No. You _cannot_ think that comeback was good. It was such shit.” Ryan frowned, his expression morphing into a sort of pout, “Ryan, _no_. You sounded like a 5 year old.”

The stubborn, almost petulant tone was a thing to behold, “No, I didn’t. I thought it sounded good.”

“You called me a potato.”

“I think we should get back to telling you about your soulmates before Ryan starts throwing out other foods,” Lindsay snickered, holding her hands up in mock surrender when Ryan turned his weak glare onto her.

“ _Fine…_ ” Ryan definitely didn’t want to let it go just yet.

“So we talked about Gavin already. We can skip Jeremy-” Michael could see Ryan flinch a little at the mention of Jeremy, “-for now for obvious reasons, so that leaves the other two.”

“Mhm,” Ryan hummed, “Geoff and Jack.”

“So?” Michael prodded.

Lindsay’s voice was full of mirth when she started speaking, “Geoff is easy. He’s tattoos, facial hair, and alcohol rolled into one person.”

Ryan seemed slightly annoyed by that summary if the side eye he was giving the red-haired woman was any indication. Her countering smirk only made him sigh and run a hand through his hair.

“While she’s not... _wrong_ , Geoff has a little more going for him than that for sure.” Ryan defended, “He definitely is the one who’ll try and get you into the group dynamic first. He won’t shy away from letting you know how he feels and he doesn’t try and hurt intentionally, but he won’t sugarcoat things either.” As an afterthought, he also added, “And he cooks.”

Michael hummed a little in acknowledgement, “What about Jack?”

“A walking teddy bear.” Ryan smiled softly, “He’s bigger than all of us, but he’s probably the nicest. He’s got glasses like you and is very ginger. He has a big beard too. Jack is probably the most openly affectionate as well, not like me and the others aren’t, but he definitely won’t shy away from showing you how he feels.” His expression turned a little more playful as he commented, “He’s also a huuuuge pussy when it comes to horror games. Him and Gavin try to throw  each other in the other’s place when one of them has to play a horror game. Definitely leads to great entertainment.”

Michael ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, “How in the _hell_ does this even come close to functioning.”

It wasn’t a question. It was just a blunt statement. Ryan answered him anyway with a small affectionate smile.

“I can’t say it always does work; we’re human and we’ll disagree on things. We give it our all anyway because all of us _want_ it to work. We may be soulmates, but this is still a relationship. We put in the effort to keep it stable and we try not judge any baggage one of us brings.” His eyes lit up a little more as he looked Michael in the eye, “It does help that half of us happen to be hopeless romantics.”

Michael tried to fight down his own affection. His pride was stubborn in that regard, especially with their female companion just on the other side of Ryan who he knew would comment on anything remotely cheesy. It seemed to be a losing battle, however, as he let out a breathy laugh.

“I swear to god. I’m going to fucking take you out somewhere when we get out, you goddamn _sap_.” He promised rolling his eyes.

Ryan’s expression grew even more fond as he looked into Michael’s eyes, “Guilty as charged.”

Of course, Michael called Lindsay’s interruption perfectly when a snort broke through the atmosphere that steadily building. He just sighed and tried to convey to the red headed woman how irritated he was by holding up his middle finger at her.

“You should just make out already-!” Lindsay chirped before moving to avoid Ryan shoving her off her seat, “What? I’m just saying it like it is.”

The shit-eating grin on her face was not encouraging Michael to restrain himself from giving her double middle fingers.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking input.” Michael grouched, crossing his arms over his chest. Though a smile was worming its way back on his face hearing her boisterous laughter mingling with Ryan’s quieter breathy giggles. It was really hard to hold any anger against the woman. Michael could almost forget where they were with how bright the atmosphere was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaha! I finally finished this chapter! Suck it writer's block, I got it to presentable!
> 
> Jokes aside, I know this has been forever and a half since I posted a chapter. I don't have much in the way explanation except aforementioned writer's block kicking me in the ass whenever I sat down to write, Ideas for _other_ fanfics, and pressure to keep my grades up for my last year of high school. I just resolved to work on it in bits when I could and to try and work on it whenever I wanted to draft ideas for the other fanfics.
> 
> So as a "I'm so late it hurts" present, I'll let you all know how I'm tackling this fic for now. I decided to split up the fic into corresponding arcs (Right now just Ryan arc from ch1-5 and Jeremy arc from ch 6 onward) as to not have the never loading google doc. Let me tell you, when a fic is 33 pages after I cut it to the current arc, that's saying something. Plus, I have a separate ideas doc for each arc going on. There's my insider knowledge for ya. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take as long as this one did.
> 
> I hope you all have a nice day.
> 
> ~LadyHikari


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